The Grey
by Gaaralovesmeonly
Summary: Sequel to "Things I Love in this World"; Harry and Tom have a new life together with Nanda, and Harry fears most of all that Nanda will end up like him; Something is rising once more, and everyone expects Tom to put a stop to it; Har/Vol slash
1. A Little Intro

**Chapter 1: A Little Intro**

**This is the sequel to **_**Things I Love in this World**_**. I've had a tough time deciding exactly what I was going to write about in the sequel, but I decided on it, and I could never be happier with it. :) I think it's going to be amazing. **

**So I received SO MANY reviews after the last story, there is NO WAY I could possibly answer them all here. So to them I say, I'm sorry, but I did enjoy reading every single one of them. :) **

**Note: I don't own Harry Potter, of any of its characters, but I do own Nanda. I made him and he shall forever be MY IDEA! NO STEALING (without permission. If you ask, I doubt I would say no…). SO anyway… don't sue me.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY IS RATED M FOR EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, (future) SEXUAL CONTENT, AND GENERAL VIOLENCE AND EVIL; HARRY/ VOLDEMORT SLASH; DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ; M'kay, thanks. **

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><p>"Where are those happy days?<br>They seem so hard to find

I wish I understood

The love you gave me  
>Nothing else can save me<br>SOS"

-_SOS_ by The Cast of Mamma Mia!

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><p>Harry's POV:<p>

I awoke from my dreamless sleep to the sound of a small child screaming. After the first few seconds of grogginess, my instincts kicked in, and I got up as quickly as I could and ran across the room to where Nanda slept in his small bed (I know it doesn't sound like much, but it was actually more than you would think, since it was Tom's large room). I could barely see his small outline in the darkness of the room, but it was enough to pick him up and hold him to me. It was Thursday (I was pretty sure), and he had been having nothing but bad dreams since Tuesday. He had, of course, always had bad dreams, but never to frequent; usually about once or twice every two weeks. It scared me that he would grow up hating sleep as I once had.

'Nanda…' I whispered to him as he squirmed, still stuck in his nightmare. 'Nanda, it's alright. I'm here. I'll protect you.'

Tears stained my sleeping shirt, but I really could care less. Nanda wiped his eyes as he woke up, and wrapped his small arms around my neck. Every single time he had a nightmare, I regretted not making it a big deal to the orphanage that I couldn't know about where he came from, and what in Merlin's name had happened to him that was scaring him this much. They had said I could not fix what had happened, and that the previous family had asked it not to be shared. If I had trusted my gut, I would have gotten to the bottom of it while I could. And now I pay the price of being kept in the dark.

'What happened, little one?' Tom joined us now, his wand in his hand and a light at its tip. His beautiful face was only half-lit as he pointed it at us.

My hand that was on his head fell as he raised it to look at him. I couldn't see his face, but I could feel his uneasy breathing. _My poor puppy…_ Whatever happened to him, I wanted to know what it was. I could care less if they had burned his papers after we adopted him, or that the lady who knew refused to tell me. I would find out. Seeing Nanda like this, like me, but at such a younger age, made me so furious; I could feel it burning in my heart, and spreading through my veins, like a wild fire. _I will find out. I swear it on my life._

Tom's hand stroked his cheek, wiping the tears from them. _'Harry, love'_ he said in my mind, _'Calm yourself. Our child will be better in the morning.'_

_Yes, I know, but I can't stand to see him so scared of something like this and not know what's causing it! We adopted him to raise him so he wouldn't end up like us. And here he is, going through the same torture I did. What are we going to do, Tom? This is the third time this week! It's getting worse. What if he ends up like I was?_

Nanda had stopped his crying, but hadn't yet detached himself from me. Tom came over to my other side and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. _'He won't, love. He has a loving family who understands what he is going through, and who will help him in every possible way they can.'_ I knew that, of course, but it did help to hear it. That fear still lingered in my mind, but logic suppressed it enough.

'Papa, can I sleep with you and Daddy?' Nanda asked in small, sweet whispers. I loved him with all of my heart, like he was my own child. I never wanted anything bad to happen to him.

'Of course, pup.' I smiled. With his hazel eyes, and crazy light brown hair, he always reminded me of a wolf pup, and so it became his nickname. He was so frail, and I kept as best an eye over him as I could. He'd already been to St. Mungo's a couple of times since we brought him home (on January 3rd; I will always remember that day); once for a broken arm he got from swinging around on a tree, and once more for a badly twisted ankle from tripping down the stairs (he was thankfully very close to the bottom already); Each time gave me a bloody heart attack. Tom told me (several times since then) that I was overprotective of him. I didn't believe it, but I kept tab on my actions to make sure I was giving him some freedom, but still assuring he wasn't doing anything too risky. I would hate to have to take him there again.

I looked to the muggle clock (that I had convinced Tom I needed to stay sane) that sat upon the little nightstand on my side of the bed (since I had been staying in Tom's room ever since I got back from school a little over a month ago). _Around three in the morning,_ I guessed from what I could see in the blackness. I carried him back over to the bed and laid him down. He scooted over and I slid in after him. There was still so much room in the bed, I could barely see Tom on the other side. I got comfy enough to be able to go to sleep, and Nanda cuddled up next to me, falling asleep almost immediately. I smiled at him. He was our child, and I would not let him be anything like us; he was the beacon of hope to everyone (and, might I say, the first child to be adopted by a gay couple), even if he didn't know it yet.

And I feared the day he would find out.

I felt Tom in my mind, and I relaxed. I didn't need to be worrying right now. Everything was perfect right now with Nanda here, and Tom as well. What more could I ask for? And with that thought, I fell back into my dreamless sleep, just awaiting the sun's return to the sky, signifying a new day to come.

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><p><strong>Really short, I know. But it was just an intro. I promise more lengthy chapters are on their way. This was more of just an information giver. Hope you guys liked it! Please review, if you can! M'kay, thanks! :D<strong>

**Just a note, I also have another story out. I don't know if you guys would like it AT ALL. It's a one shot tragedy about Harry, called **_**Living**_**. Don't read it if you expect a happy ending. It's really depressing and angst-y. Just letting you guys know. **


	2. Letter

**Chapter 2: Letter**

**:) HEY GUYS! I'm gonna be busy real soon. After next Monday, my schedule is gonna be PACKED. I'm going to have to start updating once a week, probably on Wednesdays or Saturdays or Sundays, I'm not sure yet. But for right now, I should be able to get one chapter out each day. :) Thanks for reading! **

**There is a part in this chapter that is just explanations and stuff that you already know. I'll put a notice of the parts you might want to skip, unless you want a refresher or something. :)**

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><p>"Words fall through me<br>And always fool me  
>And I can't react<br>And games that never amount  
>To more than they're meant<br>Will play themselves out"

-_Falling Slowly_ by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova

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><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

I held the letter in my hands. After all this time from my dads saying I was a wizard, nothing had ever really set in until now. I was a wizard, and I was going to go to school with other wizards and witches to learn how to use my magic and control it. My dads had taught me a lot of things already, really simple things, like what my papa called magical clay and how to ride my broom and a wandless spell or two my dad taught me, and I knew some things by myself, like how to make the wind blow against the bark of the tree just right to make that whistling noise and the grasses whisper against itself and the birds nearby to tweet and the leaves to dance around to the music; I could do all that when I waved my hands like a conductor. And now, I was going to Hogwarts to learn.

It wasn't going to be my first time there. I had always gone there to visit Grandpa Sev, the Headmaster, and Aunt Hermione, who was a professor there (I have no idea what she teaches yet, but I'm sure I'll find out). The school, as I had learned, looks quite intimidating from the outside, but quite comforting and regal inside. I was glad that I got to go there, since I had already been there plenty of times. It would make my first day so much simpler. Now all I had to worry about was making friends, and using a wand, and which house I would be put in (since I have heard no great people came from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, and I wanted to be as great as my dads someday, which was going to be hard to achieve in itself), and how I would do in classes, and what if I made an enemy whom I had to see every day, and what if I didn't like my roomates, and it was going to be hard to be away from my dads for so long, and I might get a teacher who doesn't like me…

My first day was going to be awful. I wasn't so sure I wanted to go.

My papa was still smiling at me, probably waiting for me to get excited or something. I wished every day I could be as great as he was. I had heard every word of his story that my dad had told me (since my papa wouldn't actually tell me himself); he had been attacked by the most evil wizard in the world when he was a baby, and he lived through it. And he went to Hogwarts and was in Gryffindor, where he made friends with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, and became a seeker his first year (the only one ever). In all his years there at Hogwarts, he was so great at everything he did, and he defeated the evil wizard before his sixth year. It was an awful lot to live up to, but what choice did I have? I wanted to make my papa proud of me.

_Well,_ I thought to myself, _I have to try. And going to this school is my chance._ I gave my papa a smile, mostly to try and cheer myself up. "Alright, then. When should we get my books and supplies?"

"We've already gotten your books. All we need is your wand." I loved his green eyes. If I wore just the right shirt, my eyes could be close enough to their color, but never exactly got the brightness and love they held. My eyes were always earthy, and held that chocolate undertone to them, as much as I wanted the green to come out.

My dad was at his side. He had told me stories of when he was in school; Top of his class, head boy, loved by most of his teachers, loyal friends. I always asked him about what he did after he got out of school, but he just said he went through a phase, and Papa helped him through it. I didn't quite understand what that meant, but I figured it had something to do with not getting the job he wanted at Hogwarts. Right now, he had a more serious face on, rather than a happy one. He looked to my papa and said, "Harry, when will you be taking our pup to get it?"

A look crossed Papa's face, that I barely missed to a blink, before his smile returned. "Depends on how he feels. Would you like to get it now, or tomorrow?"

I didn't want to get it now, but tomorrow seemed so far from now. "Could I get it after dinner?" _That would give me enough time to calm down, but not to really get anxious._

"Of course, pup." Papa kissed my head and stood from his kneeling in front of the couch where I sat in our sitting room. "Now, if you would like to stay here, you can. Or go outside, or to the library, but your Dad and I need to talk."

"Alright," I said. _What do I want to do, then?_ That was a foolish question. I always wanted to do one thing, all the time; it never seemed to get old, no matter if I did it a hundred times a day. "I'll be outside." I clutched my neck charm. It was a portkey to the outside, since I couldn't apparate like my dads could until later on. It was a small, grey circle, much like a coin, and on it was a howling wolf, with a half-light, half-dark moon above it.

"Stay safe." My papa said.

"We will be done before you know it" said my dad.

I smiled and petted the wolf on the charm, and I was instantly pulled into a tube and released outside a moment later. The green hills never ceased to amaze me, with its green grasses, and small patches of flowers in a few places (but only on one hill), and graceful trees that held healthy leaves and had perfect brown bark. This was my one place to get away from anything awful, like hard spells, Scorpius Malfoy, and my nightmares (mostly the last one). This was where I could really do magic.

I walked to the top of the highest hill and turned to face the trees. My arms rose up into the air to just about shoulder-level, and my face was focused. I could feel the song, always swirling around in my mind, but when I called, it drained into my veins and filled my entire body. The power was in my hands, and I loved nothing more than to set it free. Everything was still, waiting for my move to begin. _Five, six. Five, six, seven, eight._ My right hand counted off. I moved my arms, and everything burst into song. The leaves rustled against each other, and the wind whipped against the bark to make a whoosh sound, the grasses swayed along to the beat, and birds chirped harmonies. There was an orchestra before me, or a choir, or a band; it didn't matter, as long as the music escaped my hands. I smiled and dragged my hand across the air slowly, to act as a crescendo, and nature followed, down to the last detail, whether it was a punctuated note, or dynamic contrast, or even a staccato note; everything was just the way it played in my head. And I loved it.

Then the last note came, and my hands turned over, bringing my thumb and pointer finger together for the close. The song was over, but the feeling wasn't. It was brilliant, letting the music leave my hands, and giving it freedom; there was no feeling better in the world. I sighed and my hands fell to my side, taking on last revel in it. I probably wouldn't get much time to do this when I go to school, _but I would find some time, at least,_ I told myself. I had to find time. I hadn't ever held in the music before, keeping it trapped inside the prison within me. What would happen? I hoped it wasn't anything drastic, like making me explode. I sat down on the grass and looked up at the perfectly puffy clouds in the sky. I had no idea where I was, but it was my home.

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><p>Harry's POV:<p>

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. I sent a glare over at Tom, who was being too serious. I knew what we had to talk about, but that didn't excuse for him being this way. He knew exactly how I hated Nanda feeling like he wasn't wanted here. But all the same, we told him to leave. Not in those words, but that's how it felt to me. Maybe I was being too protective. It's not like he was running away and we were encouraging him (I had been there before, not too fun for self-esteem). We just told him we needed to talk, and he said he would go outside. There was nothing wrong with that…

"What?" Tom said in response to my look.

I sighed again. "Never mind. I know what we need to talk about. We've talked about this day for a while now, but I didn't except it to come so soon."

Tom grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him. I wrapped my arms around him, letting myself enjoy him, even if only for a moment. I felt our whole life was Nanda now. Not that I didn't absolutely love my pup with all my heart and soul, but he really did take up all 24 hours of my day. Little moments like this were never enough, but they would tide my appetite enough. I wanted nothing more than to push Tom on the couch and snog him senseless, but when would Nanda be back? He knew, of course, that I loved Tom just as much as I loved him, but it was odd to have him watch us. Parents were supposed to be loving, to both children and each other, but we needed to spare our child from such…displays.

I pulled away and sat down on the couch. "What are we going to do, Tom? He's never going to see us the same way. We waited too long to tell him this! We should have told him when he would barely understand what it meant, so he could gather the meaning over time, so it wasn't so abrupt."

"Harry, my love, that is not how it works." He sat right next to me, but turned my direction. "But it does not matter now. It is already too late to do that. We have to tell him now. He is going to go to school, and people are going to know who he is, and what he represents. If we don't tell him now, he is going to find out the hard way, and that will only make it worse for us."

This was so horribly familiar. I leaned back until I couldn't anymore, and looked up at the ceiling. I imagined this conversation happening between Dumbledore and Snape, or McGonagall, or even Hagrid. _"Harry is going to grow up not knowing he is famous." "Yes, I know." "But Dumbledore, don't you think we should have told him earlier?" "And let him get a swelled head? Never. He will grow up just fine." "Alright, whatever you say, Dumbledore."_ It made me sick to my stomach. I never wanted him to be like me, in any way. Yet here we are; Nanda's 11 now and he's going to go to Hogwarts, and kids are going to know his name, and what his parents did, and who they were, but he would have no clue. He would have a horrible nickname, just as I had, that people would call him, and it would forever be attached to him whether he liked it or not. All we needed was a prophecy and an evil villain for him to destroy. And we'd be practically identical. I shook my head. I couldn't do this again; not to Nanda.

I had voiced all that to Tom several times, but even I knew he had a point. We couldn't _not_ tell him, because finding out from other students would not be such a great thing for us to do as parents. I didn't want to tell him, but my hands were tied. I had no idea how he would take it, but he had to know. "Should we telling before or after we get his wand?" I asked, giving up all of my arguments. They were no use.

"Before, I suppose. So you have an excuse to talk to him if he has doubts about me." Tom said it so casually, but I could feel the fear seeping out of the barriers of his mind. He didn't want to tell his son who he had been, the parts of his past he wouldn't share because he was ashamed, and guilty. But nothing could ever be easy for him after that, and everything took time to heal. There would be no reason for Nanda to think Tom could ever be such a person, and he didn't want to break his heart saying that he had been.

I was scared as well, but not nearly as much as Tom. I was supposed to kill Tom, all those years ago, and I grew up in an awful home, and I had nightmares, and I was famous, and I was the Boy-Who-Lived. I hated that part of my life (it all was on my list), but I had to share it with him before others did. It was a hard decision, but it was made. "Alright then. We're really going to do this?" I was hoping he would say no, but then again, that would be terrible.

"Yes, love. And our pup will not see us any different than he already does."

I tore my eyes away from the ceiling to look into his eyes. His mask was in place, as it always was when he was like this, but his eyes gave away just a hint of how much he didn't want to do this. I needed to be the one comforting him, I realized. I leaned over and kissed him, long and passionate. Our lips parted and I looked at him again, his scarlet eyes meeting them immediately. I forced a smile onto my face. "I'll get him then." I patted his hand with my own before pulling my wand out of my back pocket. For a moment, I was with Tom outside, lying on the hills, making love on their grasses. _**Expecto Patronum**_. The white light erupted from my wand, and the familiar cobra appeared. I sent it off with the message and turned back to Tom. "This is it."

Nanda appeared back in the room, a huge smile on his face and grass in his hair. He always had so much fun outside. He really was a prodigy, but not like Tom and I; he told me he could feel the music, and he still loved to make the hills dance and say he released it. It was something you didn't see every day, even if you were a wizard. And if you listened just right, you would hear the song. I planned on getting him some instruments for his next birthday. He was too young for them now, but he would absolutely adore them now.

"I'm back." He said simply. "Did you finish your talk?"

Tom let a small sigh go. "Yes, pup. And we have something to tell you."

Nanda looked between us and sat on the floor in front of us. His smile faltered a bit at the seriousness that swirled about the room. "What is it?"

"Remember when you would ask me about what we were like in school?" Nanda nodded. "Well, we think it is time to fill in the parts I did not share. We are both going to share our parts. I will be the first to go.

(**You can skip this if you want**)

"I will start by saying I grew up different from you, Nanda. Shortly after I was born, my mother died, and my father was a muggle who had left long before I was due. I was sent to an orphanage, much like the one you came from, but I never was adopted. The workers there were not loving as we are, and the other children treated me like a freak, because I had magic, and they did not. When I finally went to Hogwarts, and learned what I was, I became fascinated with past. I learned about my ancestors, and my father. He was an awful man, who hadn't cared at all for my mother. Since he was the only muggle in my life, and he was so terrible, I despised anything muggle. I spent my years there gathering what I called friends, but they were more of followers, and I was there leader.

"Around that time, I became very fearful of death, and became obsessed with finding ways to prevent it. That was when I learned about horcruxes. A horcrux is a part of one's soul that is ripped off and placed in an object, that way when they die, there is another piece of them to gain life again. It is very dark magic, and is also very painful to make. With each one made, the less human one is. I never wanted to die, and so I made seven. And I can still name them all to this day. So I made several horcruxes, and lost so much of what makes me human. I was nothing more than a monster.

"I called this monster Voldemort. He was so powerful, and full of dark magic, and hated muggles, and muggle-borns, and even half-bloods, though I am one. I thought that if I got rid of them all, there would be a perfect world, of nothing but pure-blooded wizards, and I could rule over only the best. I was out of school by this time, and I had many loyal followers, of whom I cared very little for. I was rising to power, and I had immense influence, but there were still those who defied me, even some pure-blooded families. I called them blood traitors, and I made it a point to make sure they…" Tom took a breath. I had been lost in his story, and took this moment to look at Nanda. His face was confused, but he showed no understanding as to what he was talking about.

"…could not interfere in my plans. Voldemort killed them.

"And then there was a prophecy. One that said there was a child that was going to stop me, and kill me. I couldn't let this happen, and so I needed to find out whom it was, and kill them before they could even get the chance to kill me."

"And that was where I came in." I bit my lip. Nanda was still not getting it, _but maybe it would work better for us that way_… "My parents had been against what he was trying to do for so long…" My vision was turned off, and the words of the prophecy ghosted in my eyes. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.

"I was that child. And when Voldemort came to kill me, my parents went into hiding, only to be revealed by their best friend. The Dark Lord, as Voldemort was known since many did not want to say his name, came to our hiding place, and killed my father. He was going to spare my mother, but she refused to give me to him, and so he killed her. And when he tried to kill me, for some odd reason, his spell did not harm me at all, but bounced back and hit him.

"And then I was famous. I had defeated the Dark Lord as a baby, but at what cost? I was sent to live with my mother's sister, and her husband and child. They were really quite awful to me there. My aunt hated anything magic, and so she never told me I was a wizard. My uncle frequently beat me, and their son, Dudley, would beat me up whenever he got the chance. I grew up thinking my parents had died in a car crash, and that the scar on my forehead was just a mark from it.

"And my letter came from Hogwarts, just like it did for you today. My aunt and uncle tried everything in their power to keep them from me, but when Hagrid was sent to give me the letter, needless to say I got it. He told me everything. What my parents did, that I was famous for what I did, that they assumed the Dark Lord was gone for good. I went to school, having no idea what to do. My first year, yes, I was the youngest seeker in history, but I was also trying to find out what Dumbledore was hiding in the school, because Hermione, Ron, and I were scared Snape was trying to take it.

"In the end, I learned it was the Dark Lord who was trying to steal it, using the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell, to get the Sorcerer's Stone to use it to live forever. From that year on, I slowly learned about him and his intentions. It was just barely sixth year that I even learned he had horcruxes, and Dumbledore, before he died, told me I had to destroy them, but we had no idea how many there were. By that point, I had already destroyed one, not even knowing I had.

"Just before seventh year, one of my best friends, Luna Lovegood, was taken by Voldemort and he offered me a trade, me for her. I figured he was going to kill me, and I was alright with that. There were so many people I cared for that were risking their lives for me, I thought if I was gone, they would all be safe. But when he took me prisoner, that wasn't what he had in mind at all.

"He wanted me to help him. I took this chance to try and stop him from being evil. It was kind of like another war, but there wasn't really any fighting. And I'm sure when it really happened, but I fell in love with him." I smiled. This was a story I had always wanted to hear from my parents, and now I was sharing it with my child. I felt so…old. "But he was still Voldemort, and he refused to believe he could that way." My smile faded. "He told me he didn't love me, and I disappeared. I tried to kill myself, because I didn't see any point in living anymore, but Snape stopped me.

"He really kind of fixed us, in a way. Voldemort disappeared after I left, and all that remained was Tom. He loved me, not that horrible monster. Of course, it took some time, and maybe some forcing from Snape, but we explained everything to each other, and made up, I guess."

(**Resume reading here**)

Nanda seemed to be absorbing every detail we had told him so far, looking quite shocked, but I continued nevertheless. "Your dad didn't want to be evil anymore. So I guess I kind of won." I grinned. "We decided to show everyone this. I went to talk to the Ministry, and he decided to make a guest appearance there, proposing laws he wanted to pass. We made the branch in the Ministry to focus on protecting children in muggle care, and even in wizard care, and allowed gay couples to adopt.

"That's where you come in. You were the first child to be adopted after that law was passed, by us. The newspapers went crazy when we confirmed our relationship. 'Former Dark Lord has relations with Chosen One', really they awful. But people saw you as the thing to hold us together. I was, in a sense, the Light side, and he was previously, the Dark side. You are quite famous, actually. I would be surprised if you went to school and there was a child who didn't know who you were."

A moment of silence passed. Tom and I waited for Nanda to say something, hopefully good. I knew he wouldn't run away, or anything, but my fear kept telling me it was possible. I bit my lip, every second feeling just a bit longer than the last. Then he finally spoke up.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Pup," Tom said. "We had to let you know ourselves. If we did not tell you now, you would find out at school."

"We wanted you to be ready for I went through. Everyone is going to know you, and expect so many things from you." I felt so terrible that I was letting this happen to my own son. "I want you to know that you don't have to be anything like they expect you to be. Just be yourself." I really hoped he made friends like I had. Hermione and Ron's child was a year younger, so I couldn't count on someone familiar for him there.

"Alright." He looked down at his hands. I was so incredibly nervous. Nothing mattered more to me than what Nanda felt about us.

"How are you, pup?" Tom asked gently. "I know it is a vast amount of things to take in at once."

"I'm…" he turned his head to the side. "…alright, I guess."

I released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. It was a relief he wasn't angry, but I understood that maybe he hadn't quite absorbed it all. But I knew something that would cheer him up either way. "Well, pup, it seems we have some time to kill before dinner. I would love to show you something." I stood and reached my hand out to him. He stood and took my hand, and we disapparated, leaving Tom behind.

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><p><strong>Did you like it? I hope so. :) Please review if you can! (By the way, I didn't answer reviews this time because there wasn't really anything to say to them other than thanks and stuff.) I'm glad you liked the first chapter. :D<strong>


	3. Harmony

**Chapter 3: Harmony**

**Sorry about this late update, but I slept in too long this morning. My bad. Anyway, I've already started on the next chapter, so it will definitely be ready earlier! :)**

**Thank you for all the positive comments! Someone (you know who you are) has requested that I make Neville a professor at Hogwarts. And so it shall happen. But I have no idea where to put him. Thoughts?**

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><p>"And there he was<br>This young boy  
>Stranger to my eye<br>Strumming my pain with his fingers  
>Singing my life with his words<br>Killing me softly with his song  
>Killing me softly with his song<br>Telling my whole life with his words  
>Killing me softly with his song"<p>

-_Killing Me Softly_ by Fugees

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><p>Harry's POV:<p>

We now stood in the training room. It was so familiar, with the large cage of rats, and the huge snake slithering across the floor (who I learned was called Nagini). Tom and I had been here a millions times together, and this wasn't the first time Nanda had been here, but he had never seen anything like what I was about to do before. Truthfully, neither had I, and I was hoping with all my heart it would work for him. "Alright, pup. Make your clay." He nodded and cupped his hands together, focusing on them intently, and I did the same. I really, _really_ hoped this would work.

I was done first, and so I played around with it waiting for Nanda to finish. He stared at his hands and bit his lip for a few more moments before he parted them, and a round ball of light was inside. I smiled and tossed my clay into the air to float just before me, and I pulled my wand out from my pocket. Nanda watched as I flicked my wrist just right, and sent something shooting to my clay. It grew taller, and got a beautiful mahogany color to it, with strings and stand and everything. Mere seconds later, a large cello was hovering just above the ground, its bow right beside it. He smiled and handed me his clay.

"Here. Turn it into something."

I grinned. "What should I turn it into?"

He bit his lip again, thinking hard about what he could want. I trusted no matter what he picked, it would work amazingly with the cello. The corners of his mouth tugged up and he said, "Can I have a flute?"

"Of course." Once more, I tossed the clay in the air, and transfigured it. It didn't grow much at all, except to elongate, and a shiny silver coat grew on top of it. And then a flute was where the little ball of light had been. Nanda smiled, bigger than I had ever seen him before. "Go ahead. Play them"

His smile faded into concentration, and his hands rose into the air. He looked like a professional already, and he was only eleven. _My goodness…I _am_ old._ I watched as he counted off and the instruments readied themselves. There was the ever slightest moment of silence filled with anticipation just before the final down beat for the instruments to start playing, and in that moment, I wasn't watching my son, but a conductor before his orchestra. And I realized what (future) life he was cut out for in the Wizarding world. It wasn't among the Aurors, or a professor at Hogwarts, or Quidditch athlete, or anything like that. His life was with his music. And I could never be more proud of him.

His hand movement signaled the cello to start, and a rich, deep sound resonated throughout the room, beautiful and warm like a winter's day sitting by the fireplace with hot chocolate. After a short few beats, he let the flute join in. It played a sweet little melody, like chipper bird tweeting its heart out. I never would have thought such a deep tone could mesh so well with a much higher one, but both instruments seemed to flow together better than water, and soar through the air to my ears. I could feel the vibrations with my pulse from the cello, and the prick of each high note from the flute brought tears to my eyes.

_My son is a music prodigy._

The song played itself out, and Nanda cut it off. He stood still a moment, and I took that as a cue to clap. He turned to me, wearing a large smile, and bowed. He made muggle conductors look like amateurs, being able to control all the instruments himself with magic. I definitely could not do that when I was his age. I could only accidently make glass appear, and cause snakes to slither to Brazil from the zoo. He was so absolutely perfect to me, and I'm, not sure he would ever understand what that feels like until he has his own child.

"What did you think, Papa?"

"That was amazing, pup." I smiled and held my arms out for him to hug me, which he took. "Just imagine after you have your wand. I'm sure your first year you will learn how to do that spell perfectly. You will be wonderful, pup."

He looked up at me. "You think so?"

"I do. As does your dad." I sighed. "I can't believe you're going to Hogwarts already. It seems like just yesterday that I was coming back from Hogwarts myself." My little bird was learning to fly. It won't be long before he leaves the nest. _Oh, I don't want him to grow up._ _Not yet._ "Well, alright. Let's go have some dinner, then."

Nanda pulled out of the hug and said, "I'll race you."

I chuckled. "Last one there has to pay for your wand."

We laughed and ran out the door to the dining room.

* * *

><p>Tom Riddle's POV:<p>

I sat in the sitting room, staring out the window, long after they had left. I had always been so unsure about how raising a child would be. _Would I be able to give them the things they need? Could I be a proper father? _I only knew what I had from experience, which was nothing, of course, and so I had to do what I felt I should. I was so thankful to not have to do this alone. Harry was with me every step of the way, and that added a reassurance that I was doing the right thing. Just because Harry grew up in a terrible home as a child does not mean he cannot raise a child properly; quite the opposite, actually. He was such a perfect father that I felt our pup loved him so much more. But that was such a childish thought. This was not a competition, or anything of that matter. All that was important was that Nanda had two fathers who loved him more than anything else in existence.

Like Harry, of course, I wanted him to be nothing like me. But, as we have realized, it is so difficult to raise children in such a way that they do not want to be like their parents, without having them hate you (or something equally as awful). We both could not help but notice how much he adored everything about Harry, as he would often question me about Harry's past, and I would often see thoughts in his mind regarding making Harry extra proud when he did something wonderful. One of Harry's prominent fears was that Nanda would be like Harry, and go through a point in his life where he was sick of his life so much, he would want to kill himself. No matter how many times I have told him that would never happen because he has us, his fear has never left.

Through the window, I could see the leaves shine in the sun, still so green, and rustle in the slight breeze. It was still summer, yes, but all that was going through my head was fall, when the leaves would change into bright orange, red, yellow, and brown, and leave their home upon the branches. Nothing could stop that from happening, not Nanda leaving nor the leaves falling, but I did not exactly feel the need to. It was a part of life that happened, no matter what others thought of it. That was the power of nature.

I was sure that Harry had done something to cheer up Nanda by then, and so I made my way to the dining room. I sat in my very comfy chair, and awaited their arrival. The minutes passed, and I wondered just how long I had been in the sitting room staring out the window and thinking. I had assumed it had been a while, but maybe it had only been a short amount of time. My sense of time was hardly ever off, but I had not really focused on it, otherwise I would not be in this predicament My eyes wondered the room, falling upon many things, such as the length of the table, and the ceiling's height, even the small owl window, before they landed on the two chairs next to my own. I was at the head of the table, as always, and Harry was at my right hand, leaving Nanda with my left hand.

There was a time when the chair at my left hand had been a high-chair, used to feed the small child we had just acquired. Usually children five years of age did not use such chairs, but Nanda was so tiny for his age, and he could not see the top of the table in a normal chair, we had to get him one. And then the chair went to Harry's friends, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley (formerly Granger), for their child who had broken the old one they had gotten from Mr. Weasley's parents (not that the baby was heavy weight as much as the chair was very frail). I rather missed it. It had a charm on it, of course, to change its fabric to the liking of the small person whom decided to place their bottom in the chair. For Nanda, it was blue with music notes moving along a set of lines called a music staff. For Rose (The Weasley child and Harry's godchild), it was a pale yellow with fairies swirling around.

More minutes passed as I gathered my thoughts back to the present. Out of all the time I had to get used to having feelings (a whopping 6 years), I had never felt this one before. I was not sad, but I was not happy either, nor was I scared or angry. As much as I enjoyed that Nanda was going to school now, there was something inside me that was…odd. I wanted the child I once had back in my arms, laughing and playing like he once had, but then again, I understood I could not turn back time (well, not easily). It was more of a dream-like feeling rather than an actual emotion; almost as if I could wake up at any moment to hear my young pup asking for a bedtime story about Babbity Rabbity, or the Hopping Pot, out of the book I had in the library. But he would be going to school instead, with books of his own, and a wand, to learn charms, transfiguration, potions, history, and various other subjects, just I once had.

_They are taking an awful lot of time._ I sighed and sat back against the chair, a thing I rarely ever did. There was always the possibility that he did not want a father who had been evil. He would not be the first person to think the ways of people never change. I still could not go out in public without having people stare daggers at me. They would even go to the lengths to do something awful to me, even if it was something small, like going on lunch break right as I walked into the store (no matter what time it was), or trip me in a crowd of people (so I could not see who it was). One man even tried to kill me with his bare hands because I had done something or other to someone important to him a long time ago (of which I apologized for many, many times afterwards). There was nothing I could do to erase the past that haunted me so (unless I obliviated the entire Wizarding world, but Harry said it was a terrible idea).

And yet, it was such a beautiful idea. If only I could start out fresh once more as Tom Riddle, and not Voldemort. That would be marvelous…

I distinctly heard the pounding of feet coming my way. I turned to see Nanda running out from the hallway, Harry just after him, both laughing and full of smiles. It was a relieving sight.

Nanda sat in his chair first. "I win!"

Harry chuckled and snapped his fingers. "Darn. I suppose that means I'm paying for your wand then." He sat down, and the house elves brought us our dinner.

"Dad, you missed it. Papa made me some a cello and a flute and I played a song on them." Nanda marveled, taking a bite of food.

"It was remarkable." Harry commented. _'He doesn't seem to have really been affected by our story. He probably won't until he goes to school.'_

I nodded slightly. "I must see that when you get back from Olivander's." I trusted Harry's judgment in this, as he had gone through similar circumstances (not that I would not if he had not, but that was just because I loved him). As long as Nanda understood at some point, I did not fear that he would be too overwhelmed by it all.

A slight hope swelled in my chest. Children were so innocent, and forgiving. They did not know the evils of the world; the natural ones, that drive people to do its bidding, and trick them so smoothly, and lie at their faces, and rip their loved ones from their lives in an instant. People (in general) feared the dark, but they did not understand that evil could happen, even in the brightest of light.

We finished the food on our plates. "Alright then," Harry said, breaking the peaceful silence that had come with an enjoyable meal. "Let's go get your wand."

Nanda jumped out of his chair. He seemed much more excited than he had earlier. "Oh, I wonder what type it will be. I hope it looks nice."

"When I was getting my first wand, I nearly destroyed the entire store." Harry shook his head with a smile on his face. "If he asks you to 'give it a wave', please be careful where you wave it. Wouldn't want all the wands to fall out of their places on the wall."

I chuckled. "I had a similar experience. The first wand he gave me caused the windows to shatter all around the store, even the ones upstairs."

Nanda smiled. "Well, I hope nothing like that happens to me. I wouldn't want to have him clean it all up."

Harry grabbed his hand, and they disapparated. I smiled and stood. The elves cleared our plates and popped away. I made my way to the library. I had counted the books I had read, and there were only 50 I had not even touched, and I was determined to read them.

* * *

><p>3rd Person POV:<p>

Harry and Nanda appeared in Diagon Alley, right in front of Olivander's. Harry opened the door for Nanda, and he stepped inside cautiously. Looking around, he understood what Harry had meant when he talked about the wands falling from the walls, because they were stacked on top of another all down them, messy and strewn about carelessly. There was a whoosh sound, and the vase in the corner of the room shattered, and the water spilled everywhere, letting the flower fall over.

"No, I don't think that's the one for you," a man said, with crazy white hair and spectacles. It wasn't the Olivander Harry had known, for he had passed, but his son, who was the spitting image of him. _Maybe a bit different in the nose, and he doesn't have the same eyes as he did,_ Harry thought. Olivander's son pulled his wand out and fixed the vase with a simple movement. "Let's try another," and he went back to his ladders and shelves.

Nanda looked over to the source of a sigh that came, and saw none other than Scorpius Malfoy, and his father Draco. Scorpius put the wand back in the box and huffed, crossing his arms. "Dad," he said, his bottom lip in a pout and the front of his platinum hair flicking out of place just barely. "I've already tried _seven wands._ When am I going to find the right one?" Just the sight of him made Nanda's want to leave. He didn't want to be within ten feet of that boy, and his horrible teasing, always accompanied by a signature sneer. His voice was more annoying than anything else he had ever heard; so out of tune and misplaced to his musical ears.

"You'll get it eventually. Just be patient, my scorpion." Draco said quietly and his eyes went from his son to Harry. "Hello, Potter." The venom was still so prominent in his voice, even after six years. "Have you brought your unwanted son here to get his wand? I'm afraid you will have to wait for wizards who _deserve_ their wands."

Harry just shrugged. He was furious on the inside, of course, (_That bloody bastard can't talk about my pup that way…_) but he didn't want to give Draco the satisfaction. "That's alright. We'll just wait right here for your son to find the wand for him." And then he grinned. "_If_ he ever does. At the rate you're going, he may have it by his second year." Nanda saw his smile was so sincere, but his words were betraying that. He knew his papa didn't like the Malfoys (and he could see why, for they were so snotty and proud), but he hadn't ever seen him be so awful to another person. Draco must have done something to make his papa that way. And in that moment, he decided he didn't want to be friends with Scorpius (not that he ever really intended to, but he would make extra sure they didn't).

The man came back and lifted his spectacles back onto his nose when he saw them. "My, my. Is that Harry Potter?" He smiled and put the wand box he had in his hands down for a moment while he went to shake Harry's hand. "What a pleasure to meet you. I'm Gerbold. My father gave you your wand. Oh, what a pleasure." His eyes were a pale blue, not like his father's silver ones, but probably like his mother (or some other relative; Harry didn't know the family's genetics).

Harry smiled, half to be polite to Gerbold, half to show Draco he was _obviously_ more important than he was. "Very nice to meet you, too. Your father was a great man."

Gerbold released his hand. "What do you need, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, call me Harry. I'm here to get my son his first wand."

"Oh, of course, of course. Let me see the boy." Harry made a gesture with his hands to Nanda right next to him. "My…" He held one side of his spectacles and looked closer at him. "Yes, I've got just the wand for you. Oh, it will be the _perfect fit…_" he trailed off as he turned around and went to a rather large pile of wands on the side wall in the far corner of the shop. "My father's father made this, whom I'm named after," he muttered, pulling a wand box from the shelf without his ladder. "It has been without any owner, but yes, I can see how it would fit you perfectly." Harry all but snickered at the obvious neglect the Malfoys were receiving. Gerbold made his way back to the front of the room where they stood. "Alder with unicorn hair." He presented it to Nanda. "9 ¾ inches."

Harry's eyebrows knit together. _Nine and three quarters…that sounds so familiar._ Nanda carefully took the wand from Gerbold's hand, and looked over it. It had a nice brown color that reminded him of a guitar he had once seen in a muggle store window, with a round sort of bulge at the bottom, much like the opening of a trumpet, and small carvings along the sides all the way to the tip, almost like fire, with the pointed tips but rounded lines. He liked it; it felt nice in his hands, like all the music that was trapped in his hands could flow into it freely. But he was sure he would be like everyone else, and try many more wands before the he found the right one.

"Well go on. Give it a wave."

Nanda gave a small smile and looked around for something he couldn't break (or something equally as awful) and found a small chair by the front wall of wands close by. _I hope I don't get anything else,_ he thought, _Maybe, I could get closer to it..._ but he didn't take a step_. _He flicked the wand at the chair, and it pulled itself over just in front of him. He smiled bigger and sat in it. "I rather like this one."

Gerbolt smiled too. "Very well done. That wand is just the right fit. It should be great for summoning, as well as dueling. Did you know…" he said, invading Nanda's bubble of space just a hair. "…that wood is perfect for making pipes, and flutes." His pale blues looked in Nanda's wide hazel ones. Nanda thought about how odd he was, and how in the world did he know he would be interested in pipes and flutes? But of course, he would have to find some more alder wood and see if he can't make a nice flute with it…

"So that's his wand?" Harry was surprised. He hadn't ever met a wizard who got their wand on the first try. It made having Malfoy there watching all the better. "Well, I suppose that saves you a lot of time and work, then." Harry walked over to the counter and paid for the wand. Nanda seemed so excited, he wanted to make sure Tom didn't miss a moment of it. After he finished paying, he turned to Draco and his son. "Sorry for distracting from your search. We were really quick for you. I hope you find a wand before school starts."

With that, he grabbed Nanda, who was still marveling at his new wand, and quickly disapparated before Draco could reply.

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><p><strong>Yay! That was a fun chapter. :) Review if you can! M'kay, thanks.<strong>


	4. Goodbyes

**Chapter 4: Goodbyes**

**Wrote this half last night, half today. :) **

**Loved my reviews! And I've decided where I'm putting Neville. **

* * *

><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

I was sitting in my chair, just watching the dark clouds roll across the grey sky. It would probably rain soon, but the clouds were still a ways away. I felt the music inside me tense up. It had never done that before, and it was odd for it to do it now. Looking back to the small house (which didn't look familiar in the least), I heard an awful noise, like the something had cut through the air. The music in my veins went into a frenzy. It was such a terrible sound, like fingernails on a chalkboard; my whole body hated it.

I stood, and went to find the source of the awful sound, and stop it. I walked down the strange white-cream hallway. This was most certainly not the manor I called my home. It was painfully bland and uncoordinated, nothing like the perfectly decorated and lovely walls that lined my walls. _Where am I? How do I get back home?_ I instinctively felt for the neck charm that was always around my neck, but found it was missing. _Where on earth did it go?_ I looked around the ugly green floor (I wasn't sure what it was made of, but I didn't want to touch it to find out), but it was nowhere in sight. I decided to look for it later, after I stopped that noise and gave my ears a break.

Each doorway that came up, I checked. The first few were empty, but as I grew further down the hall, the sound was closer, and louder, and more painful. I skipped a few doors, and went to the end of the hallway, where I guessed the noise was coming from. I winced and put my hands over my ears. The door was just barely cracked, and the noise leaked from the opening. I peeked into the room.

There was a man sitting on an old, grey couch. He had light brown hair, and pale skin. His eyes were shut tightly, tears pouring from them and he shook violently with sobs. Each intake of breath he took, that was the noise. I watched him there. He was sad; I couldn't stop him from crying, and so the noise would continue. I kept watching him, hoping at any moment, he would stop, and my ears would be allowed to rest. The man didn't stop crying. He was in so much pain, it seemed, but what had caused the pain was unknown to me, just as the identity of the man was. I was tempted to open the door and ask, but I felt it would be better not to.

The man's eyes shot open, revealing a perfect almond color. He looked hurriedly around the room for something for a few seconds, before he found it in the dim light on the other side of the couch. His hands came back up, revealing two things, a picture and a knife. The blade of the knife shined evilly in the lack of light, and I wondered what he would do to the picture with a knife. If he were going to cut it up, it made more sense to use scissors, or just hands. How on Earth would he cut it with the knife? The man looked over the picture and tears came back to his eyes. And he sobbed.

"Venus…why?"

He shut his eyes again and tossed the picture away. It floated away from where I thought it would land, and fell closer to the door where I stood. The man raised his hand that held the knife and he opened his eyes to look over its jagged edges. So if he didn't mean to cut the picture, what was he going to use the knife for? He answered my question when he put it to his arm, just below the shoulder, and ran the blade quickly across it, leaving a rather large cut to bleed.

He hissed in pain, but did nothing much else. His blood flowed down his arm, staining his shirt and dripping on the floor, which was already covered with blood. But he had only just cut himself, so that blood wasn't from today. He clenched his teeth and made another cut two inches below the last one. This man was mental. Why would he do this? The amount of blood multiplied, and got everywhere; on the couch, and his pants, on his hands, on the floor, and on the knife. The knife seemed to glitter with the blood on it, like this was its intension all along, to cut. The man, still sobbing, threw the knife against the wall in frustration.

"Nothing is working…" he murmured. "Nothing will bring you back. Nothing will end my pain. Nothing, Venus. Nothing…"

His hand twitched and the knife flew back into his hands. He said something that I didn't catch, and the blood on the knife vanished. The blade looked shiny, and cleaned, and ready to serve once more. I feared the man would cut himself again. Even if I did not know him, I still thought it horrible for him to do that. He just looked over the knife, seeming to take in every detail about it. Maybe he wouldn't cut himself again. He still needed to heal his previous cuts, but at least he wouldn't cut himself again.

The man gripped the knife handle in his hand. He wouldn't do it again, would he? I bit my lip in hopes that he would come to his senses. He placed his other hand over the first, and pulled the knife down to his stomach, where it stabbed into him. Blood stained his shirt around the wound. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out but blood. His hands moved from the knife, and I saw it had definitely penetrated all the way to the handle. I didn't want to watch anymore, but my eyes were glued to the scene, no matter how hard I pulled away. The man crumpled on the red couch and his breathing became shallow. He turned his head towards the door where I was, and our eyes met. And the light left his eyes, as he took his last breath.

I couldn't believe my eyes. That man had just killed himself, right in front of me. I pushed open the door to step into the room. The things I hadn't been able to see before, I could see now. Everything in the room was destroyed; pictures were ripped apart and thrown every which way, a mirror was shattered, the glass littering the floor with sharp points, shelves were broken, or thrown across the room. I carefully placed my steps to avoid stepping on the mess, over to where the picture was on the ground. I needed to see that picture. Who was it of? Why did it make this man kill himself? It obviously held some value. I picked it up, but before my eyes could register it, the world went black.

I sat up in my bed. I was alone, in this small room, and I suddenly wished for the large, comfortable bed my dads slept in. That nightmare always haunted me. I could never understand what it meant, nor did I ever get to see the picture, but I figured if I ever did see the picture, it would tell me what it was about. I sighed and sat back in my silver and gold bed. Every time I thought about the color of my sheets, I was instantly reminded of a happier time. I lay back down to finish my night with a more pleasant dream.

A huge smile lined my face. "Oh, Papa! I really can't wait to get my new room! Oh, it's going to be amazing."

My papa chuckled. His hand was entwined with my dad's, and we were upstairs walking to the last door at the end of the hallway. True, I had never seen the room before, but I was so excited to have my own room. I usually had slept in a small bed in my dads' room, but it was now too small. This was going to be an adventure, I could tell.

I ran down the hallway to the door and tugged at the knob. "Aw, it's locked." My dad came right after me, and turned the knob just as I had, but it opened. I stared, amazed. "How did you do that?"

He smiled. "It's magic."

We walked inside the room. It was rather dark, and I couldn't see much of anything. So far, it needed a light.

"This was my old room when I first came here." My papa said. "But since I've moved into someone else's bed," he winked at my dad (that innuendo passing over my head at the time), "I've decided you might like it. _**Lumos maxima**_" I hadn't noticed he had gotten his wand out, but the tip of it lit up to reveal the rather black room. Almost everything was black, with a few exceptions that were green. It was a nice room, perfect size for me.

"It just needs some light so I could see."

"Of course, pup," said my dad. He waved his hand, and little balls of light, much like the ones in the hallway, lit up the room perfectly. "Now, these lights should dim and brighten, depending on how awake you are."

My papa turned out his light. Smiling, he flicked his wand at the sheets, and they turned red and gold, the walls were a nice cream color, and the floor was a deep red, like wine. "There we are. Perfect room for you."

My dad looked at my papa, flicking his hand at the room, turning the sheets green and silver, the walls a pale grey, and the floor a charcoal black. "I believe that is a much necessary change."

Papa put a hand on his hip and used his wand to make the room to his preference. "I don't think so." A grin was on his face. Of course, Dad retaliated and the room went back to his colors.

I watched as they went back and forth, changing the room so fast, it made me eyes hurt a bit, but I laughed. Then, they cast at the same time, and the colors merged perfectly. My sheets were silver and gold, the walls were a creamy grey color and the floor was an almost-black red color. Before they could change it, I said, "It's perfect! I love it!"

My dads laughed and lowered from their battle positions. My papa put his wand away and came over to hug me. "Glad you like it pup."

* * *

><p>3rd Person POV:<p>

The sun began to rise, pushing the pale moon out of the sky. Light seeped in through the windows of the manor, exposing the things that once casted shadows on the walls. A new day was starting; the first day of school. Nanda woke slowly from his happy dream, and rubbed his eyes, yawning sleepily at the brightness that began to come to the room. The room still a bit dim, and his eyes full of sleep, Nanda did his best to make it to the bathroom to get ready for the day. His shower definitely woke him up, and he was ready to face the on-coming day.

Harry had been awake awhile now. He was having trouble sleeping, knowing this would be the last time he would see Nanda until the holidays. He looked over at his clock. _30 minutes after 6_. He sat up in bed, knowing very well that would wake up Tom. After a few moments, Tom sat up as well. "Is it morning already, love?"

"Not just morning. It's the day our pup goes to Hogwarts for his first year."

Tom sighed. He hadn't quite gotten rid of that odd feeling he had noticed a while ago, but he had come to terms with it. _It will go away after Nanda has left for school_, he told himself. He wrapped his arms around Harry, who was taking it a bit hard that their son would be leaving them. "He's going to have fun. We have already told him about his fame a few months ago. It is bound to have soaked in by now. Our pup is grown. He can handle himself."

Harry put his hands to his forehead. "But I don't want him to handle himself. I want to hold him, and make sure he's alright, and keep away his nightmares, and watch him play outside…" He sighed. He really didn't want his pup to be growing up so fast, but who was he to stop him? "But I have to let him go."

"Yes, love. Our pup needs to learn how to be a great wizard."

"And he can't go alone to the station." Harry smiled. "Come on. We have to get ready."

Tom was nervous. It would be his first time out in public since he was almost killed (not that he was scared someone would try to kill him as much as he didn't want to cause a commotion). Harry had assured he would be fine, and he finally relented, knowing very well that Harry would drag him to the station to say goodbye to Nanda if he had to. He let go of Harry, but Harry pulled on his arms as he crawled out of the large bed, so Tom had to crawl out after him. He chuckled as Harry continued to pull him into the bathroom. He pulled off his own sleeping clothes, and after seeing Tom hadn't done the same, helped him pull his off.

Harry started the shower, making sure the water was hot enough to ease the tension in their muscles, but not to burn their skin. "Come on, Tom." Harry grabbed his love's arm and tugged it to the shower. They both got in and Tom smiled.

"And what do I thank for this lovely morning shower?"

Harry placed a kiss on his lips. "We need to relax."

Tom placed kisses from Harry's shoulder to his neck. "Thank you, tension, for allowing this handsome man to be in my shower." Harry laughed and rolled his head back.

Nanda put on his robes and combed his hair. He always loved the color of his hair, like wheat, or a beautiful harp made of light wood (how on Earth that was a comparison to hair was beyond him, but he thought it nonetheless). There wasn't much to do with it, because it was so short, so he just combed it back like he normally did. At least it was more manageable than his papa's hair. But it would never be quite as perfect as his dad's.

Harry stood, stark naked, in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what to do with his unruly hair. It was just a black mess on top of his head. He groaned and looked to Tom, who was half dressed in his robes. "How do you get your hair so perfect?"

Tom looked up and shrugged. "I do nothing but comb it. It just falls into place."

Harry groaned again. "My hair is always a mess."

Tom walked over to Harry and placed a kiss on his head. "But it looks so perfect on you." Tom nibbled on his ear, and Harry giggled at the tickling sensation it caused.

"I look like I've just been shagged."

_/Exsactly./_ Tom hissed in his ear.

Nanda sat in his chair in the dining room. He always loved how spectacularly large it was, and how long the table was, even if it was only the three of them who ate here, with the occasional guest or two. He was sure his dads would be out any minute now, since they probably had much more to their morning routine than he did. He had his wand in his pocket, loving the aura that seemed to be radiating around it, making his music twirl and spin in excitement. He wanted oh so badly to do some magic with it, but he did not know how to do anything. _That's why I'm going to Hogwarts_, he told himself. _But still…_ He pulled out his wand and tried one of the spells he had heard his dads use. "_**Lumos**_"

Harry kissed Tom and they left their room, heading for the dining room. Their morning had been perfectly relaxing, just enough to take their worries from their minds. They heard Nanda in the dining room, but what he was saying exactly was lost amongst the echoes that bounced off the walls. In a spur of the moment, Tom grabbed Harry's wrists and pushed him up against that wall. Harry laughed and they kissed once more, more carefree and having fun.

Nanda heard his dads laughing in the hallway, and quickly put his wand away. He had only managed a small light that quickly faded away, but he was sure he would get it later on. Harry and Tom finally made it to the dining room and found Nanda sitting in his chair waiting for them.

"Sorry we took a while, pup." Harry said. "I didn't know what to do with my hair this morning."

Nanda looked over at him and snickered. His papa's hair was as messy as always. "I see you found a lovely style for it," he joked.

Harry stopped a moment to pose, as if for a picture. "Yes. I call it: Bed Head. What do you think?"

"Marvelous, love." Tom stated with a smile.

"It's fantastic." Nanda said.

They all laughed, and Tom and Harry sat down. The elves brought their breakfast and then popped away (but not before Nanda could say a "thank you" to them). They ate happily, enjoying their full family moment for as long as they could before they left off for the train station, talking about their plans for the holidays, and reliving great memories they had just remembered, and how wonderful Hogwarts was (especially now that it had some renovating). And then they finished breakfast, and their seriousness set in as they readied for their trip.

* * *

><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

Looking around, there were so many people, almost all of whom were muggles. When I looked at them, I saw nothing different; nothing that would insist they were unlike us in any way. I pulled my trunk behind me, with my small brown owl, Sparo (**1**), attached to it in his silver cage, my robes billowing around me. And yet, we were so different from them. I'm sure if they paid us any attention, they themselves would notice that I stuck out like a sore thumb. _Merlin, muggles are thick-headed_.

I looked around, trying to find the platform, a cold spot growing in my stomach when I noticed all the platforms were whole numbers, and not in fractions as mine was. I kept walking, following my dads. _Surely they know where they're going._ We passed many different platforms before we stopped between two, platforms nine and ten. Platform 9 ¾ was nowhere in sight.

"Dad," I turned to look at him. "Where's my platform? I don't see it."

My dad turned to me and smiled, pointing at the wall between the two platforms. "It is just through that wall."

"You run straight at it. Don't be scared. I promise you crash into it." Papa nodded for me to go.

I looked at the wall. It seemed so…solid. But surely my dads wouldn't lie to me about this, or let me run into walls head first. I braced myself, and ran straight into it. A little voice of doubt in my head kept expecting me to crash, but I kept going. And I passed right through the wall into an equally as crowded station, full of people pulling trunks and cages, just like me. My dads came walking through right after me, hand in hand. I smiled when I saw the sign. _Platform nine and three quarters._ My dads helped me find the train alright, and then it was time to say goodbye.

My papa kneeled down to me and I hugged him tightly. As excited as was to Hogwarts, I would miss him so much. After knowing he had went through the same thing I was going to go through made it all the more easier. I was sure I would be as great as him someday. He released me and kissed my head. "Have a good time at Hogwarts, pup." I nodded and looked to my dad.

He was always so different from my papa. I knew that if I hadn't gone over to him and hugged him, he never would have wrapped his arms around me and said, "Good luck, my pup." He had always been like that. Not that I minded so much, since he was never too protective, and gave me my space; I could respect that. It was also a part in that he may not have known how to react, which troubled me a bit. Ever since I had found out about his past, I hadn't really changed much opinion about him, other than how similar we were. We lost both our parents, and lived in orphanages. It was quite sad, really, that he could did not have such luck as I did to have such a wonderful family. I made sure he understood that I loved him, since I didn't have to tell my papa as often, because he already knew, but my dad needed that extra reminder.

"I love you, dad. I'll miss you both." I let him go, and made my way onto the train. There were so many empty compartments to sit in, I wasn't sure where I should choose to sit. I walked down the train until I found one with two kids in it. I didn't want to sit alone, and from the looks of it, they seemed nice enough (and I made sure they didn't have platinum blonde hair, since it was quite a possibility they could). I opened the door. "Hello, there." I said to two boys. They had their robes on, too. The boys had dirty blonde hair, light eyes, and pale skin. Obvious twins. "Could I sit with you two?"

The boy on the right said, "Sure," and gave out his hand to shake, which I took. "My name's Lorcan Scamander, and this is my brother Lysander."

I smiled and sat down, closing the door behind me. "My name's Nanda."

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><p><strong>That was a great chapter, was it not? Review! M'kay thanks!<strong>

**1. "Sparo" is Italian, meaning "Fire" (give a little cheer for Google Translate! Hip-hip Hooray!)**


	5. Worry Train

**Chapter 5: Worry Train**

**:) Nothing much to say here except ENJOY!**

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><p>"It been a realy really messed up week<br>Seven days of torture  
>Seven days of bitter<br>...

I don't know if I'll make it  
>But watch how good I'll fake it"<p>

-_Tonight Tonight_ by Hot Chelle Rae

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><p>Harry's POV:<p>

And just like that, my son was gone. I put my head on Tom's shoulder. "Tom, I miss him already."

Tom smiled somberly. "But he is going to Hogwarts. He will be just fine."

I sighed and squeezed his hand that was still in mine. I hoped he would find friends. And I hoped he wouldn't have too much of a hard time with his fame. And that Snape wouldn't be mean to him as he was to me. And that he would show Scorpius a thing or two. I hoped he would have a great year, and enjoy it all while he could, no matter the grades he gets, or whichever house he's in, or what crazy adventures turn up on his path. I wanted him to have more than I had.

The train was long gone, but we still stood where we were, not bothering to leave just yet. Looking around, that seemed to be the case with many parents. And my eye caught blonde hair and a dreamy look in someone's eyes, and I did somewhat of a double take. I smiled and pulled Tom after me as I headed towards my friend. "Luna?"

The woman turned and smiled at me. She hadn't changed a bit. "Harry. How lovely to see you here." I went to her and gave her a hug. It had been ages since we had seen each other.

"You have a kid going to Hogwarts?"

"Two. They're twins. Rolf couldn't be here, since he's busy working, but I came to make sure they were off okay. Wouldn't want the Nargals to take their things without their notice."

I laughed. Same old Loony Luna. "Tom and I just sent off our son. It's his first year."

"My boys are first years too. It's always hard the first time, but I've been told it gets better."

I sighed. "I sure hope so."

"Well, it's been nice talking to you, Harry. And nice meeting you, Tom. I have to meet my father for some tea."

"Alright. See you again sometime." She smiled and disapparated. Many of the other parents were gone now, and the platform was very empty. I looked back to Tom. He had a small smile on his face. "What is that smile for?"

"I remember her. If one of my Death Eaters had not kidnapped her, we would not be standing here now, together."

It was almost a sad thought, to think about Luna being kidnapped, and how awful I felt about it then. But now that I have all this, I wouldn't change that for the world. I smiled, too. "Well, we had better be off then. We're the last people here." Truly, the platform was deserted. I pulled out my wand, and apparated us home. We landed in the dining room and I began to trudge back to our room. I wanted to fall onto the bed and burry my head in a pillow. And so I did. Tom followed me, and brought a book to read while he sat next to me. I was lost in my thoughts.

And I realized how Nanda was different, from both me and Tom. Hogwarts was our safe haven, away from the tortures of muggle life, but for Nanda, he was leaving his home to go to school, and he would miss us. We would come back to our horrible "family", and wish we were anywhere but there. But Nanda would love to come back and see us, and tell us what he had learned, and rejoin with a family who actually loves him. That made me truly happy that we could give him that.

* * *

><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

The two boys were staring at me with a blank expression, almost like they were looking past me. It was rather unnerving. "Who's your dad?" Lysander said.

"Um, I have two…" I said. I thought maybe they _were_ looking past me, since I sat by the window, which now showed we were moving.

"One of them wouldn't happen to be Harry Potter, would they?" Lorcan asked.

This was what my papa was talking about when he said people would know who I was. "Yes." I looked down at my fingers and twiddled them. _What I would give to be let my music free…_

"I thought so. Our mom is a friend of his. She has told us so much about him. Has he, by chance, ever mentioned our mother, Luna?" asked Lorcan.

The name rung a bell. I had heard it somewhere…_but where?_ "I think so."

"Our father talks about him, too. But he mostly talks about you." Lysander said, his pale eyes just a bit too close to my face (since I sat next to him). "You've been in the paper, did you know that?"

"Uh, no. I didn't." These two were very odd. I wondered if maybe they weren't all there in the head. It definitely was a possibility; something about the pair was off.

"Your other dad was the Dark Lord. But he's not dark anymore, is he?" said Lorcan.

"They call you 'The Grey'," said Lysander. "What an odd nickname."

That was new. "What?" I had a nickname? "Why do they call me that?"

"I'm not sure"

"But we can definitely find out for you." Lysander backed away, but I still felt as if his eyes were coming closer, only an inch from my face. They bore into me, and my nerves were startled. Lorcan was no different.

"Alright, then." I said, not knowing what else there was to say. Lorcan stood up, and left the compartment. I looked back over to Lysander, who was still staring through me, his eyes looking almost as if he was day dreaming. "Where did he go?"

"To ask one of the older kids if they know."

"You know older kids?" I was certain any older kids would more than agree with my thoughts about them.

"No."

_So he's just going to walk up to some older kid and ask that random question? That's wonderful…_ I looked awkwardly around the compartment, trying to avoid looking at Lysander's piercing stare. Then there was a knock at the door. A girl with black hair and brown eyes opened the door. "Hello. Might I be able to sit with you? Some third years just kicked me out of their compartment."

"Uh, sure, I gues-" I started, but Lysander interrupted.

"Why did they kick you out?"

The girl blushed and looked to the floor. "I-I..." she bit her lip. "I may have accidently covered them in water."

"How did you do that?" Lysander's questions seemed a bit rude, but they didn't carry the tone for it; he seemed curious.

"Well…I was…and then one of them told me I wouldn't be able to do magic until…and then I pulled out my wand…and…" she sighed. "I'll just sit in another compartment."

She began to close the door, but I stood and stopped her. "No, it's alright. You can sit with us."

"Just as long as you don't pull out your wand. We aren't allowed to use magic outside of school." Lysander said.

The corners of her mouth tugged up, and she came inside and sat down. "My name is Marcie Codnor. Are you both first years?"

"Yes. Just like you," said Lysander, giving her that same blank stare he had been giving me before. She looked to me, and I just shrugged.

There were long minutes of silence, where none of us talked at all. I didn't particularly do anything but look out the window at the scenery, but found it was none too interesting. Definitely not as beautiful as the hills outside the manor. I never looked back at the other two, but I could tell when Lysander was looking at me. There was that feeling of being watched, and I guessed he was probably looking me over, applying my appearance to what he had heard about me. _That's usually what people do when they have information about a person before meeting them._ I tried with all my might not to look back at him.

"So, you never told me your names," said Marcie, breaking the silence, much to my relief.

"I'm Lysander Scamander." His eyes moved off of me to look at her.

"And I'm Nanda." I said and gave a half smile. _She probably already knows me,_ I thought.

Her eyes went wide. "Nanda? The son of Harry Potter and…T-Tom Riddle?"

I sighed internally. _Of course…_ "Yes. Apparently they call me 'The Grey', whatever that means…"

Her face turned to confusion. "Why do they call you that?"

"Well, I was wondering the same thing."

"My brother went to find out," said Lysander.

_And he's been gone an awful long time…_ What on Earth had happened to him? "Where is he anyway? He's been gone a while now."

"Who did he go to ask?" Marcie had her head tilted slightly to the side.

"Some older kids. Knowing him, probably a sixth or seventh year."

_Because they would probably know more about it than anyone else, and they wouldn't be so mean to curious first years, like others would,_ I thought. It made sense. But then why was he taking so long?

"Why on Earth would he ask them? I'm sure they wouldn't talk to first years unless they have to." Marcie said.

"You'd be surprised." Lysander smiled.

And the compartment fell back into a much dreaded silence. So far, I wasn't doing such a great job making friends. But then again, if they weren't in my house, I probably wouldn't see them much anyway. I would have to wait until I was sorted to make real friends. Hopefully I would be in Gryffindor, or Slytherin. I couldn't bear to think what my dads would think of me if I wasn't. They would be so disappointed of me. I wasn't sure I would be a Gryffindor; I wasn't courageous, and stubborn, and fierce. Maybe I could be a Slytherin; I was clever, but I wasn't really manipulative. Does one have to meet all the requirements to be in a house, or can they only have only some?

Lorcan came back into the compartment, interrupting my thoughts. Marcie murmured under her breath (something like "_Merlin_, they're _twins_"). "Hello, there," Lorcan said, his eyes looking through Marcie. "I don't believe you were in here when I left."

"Oh, no. I'm Marcie Codnor. You must be the brother he was talking about." She forced a smile, but it was pretty obvious that she was uncomfortable.

"Did you find out about 'The Grey', brother?"

"Of course." He sat down next to Marcie and his glossed over eyes looked at me. "I asked a seventh year. Gryffindor. He said that your dads were two opposite beings. Harry was the leader of the Light, and acted as a beacon of hope for wizards and witches who were threatened by your other father, who was the Dark Lord at the time. The Dark Lord was the leader of his Death Eaters, and acted as a destroyer of hope. They were so opposite, but they founded a singular party together. He said you were the middle ground between them, the Light and the Dark. You were 'The Grey' between them."

I sat in silence. It wasn't that I was shocked hearing this, but it was odd how they got the nickname. From what I knew, my dads were not so opposite. Sure, they had their differences, but everyone does. They actually agreed on a lot of things, and I had never once heard them argue. It was hard to believe that they could ever have been on opposite sides.

"Interesting…" Lysander said, and turned to me.

I now had two sets of pale, distant eyes looking at me, not to mention a pair of brown eyes. I was obviously very interesting to look at.

"Oh. Well, that makes sense." Marcie smiled. "Can I just call you Grey?"

"Uh…sure." I looked around at the eyes. It wouldn't be so uncomfortable if two of the pairs were not so blank and creepy. "I guess."

"Oh, and the seventh year asked me why I was asking, and so I told him that you were in my compartment, Nanda." Lorcan said.

"Brother, where are your socks?" Lysander asked. I looked down to Lorcan's feet, not noticing that his socks had been missing. Lorcan looked as well.

He shrugged. "I guess the Nargals must have got them."

"Nargals?" Marcie said questionably.

"Mother told you to watch for them." Lysander shook his head. "I suppose you'll get them back eventually."

"Well, shouldn't you be looking for them?" Marcie looked as confused as I felt. Nargals? There were no such things. Were there?

"No. Mum told us that lost things have a way of coming back to us." Lorcan said.

"I suppose that's true. At least somewhat." I said. If the deeper meaning was taken, it was fairly true, but I doubted lost socks would come back to their owner.

Marcie looked at me as if I was loony as well. "How is that possibly true? If you've lost them, then they're lost. You have to find them."

"Haven't you ever been looking for something, and you don't find it until later, when you're not looking for it?" Lysander asked.

"Well, I guess-"

"Then see? It is true." Lorcan said.

"But that's different. If I just misplaced something, of course it will turn up sooner or later, but if it's lost, it's lost." She crossed her arms. If I had to guess her house (based on her stubbornness), I would have said Gryffindor. But I wasn't stubborn like her. Why couldn't I be a Gryffindor?

"Think of it this way," Lorcan proposed. "When you lose something, and you don't find it after looking for hours, what do you do?"

"Well…" Marcie said. "I suppose I would wait for it to turn up."

"Exactly," said Lysander, "That lost thing turns up eventually. It comes back to you." His blank face finally had expression; it was smug and satisfied. I suppose that would be the cleverness of a Slytherin. I wouldn't have been able to convince her of that. Why couldn't I be a Slytherin?

Marcie just sighed and rolled her eyes. We all sat, the air around us a bit tense with quiet, glancing around at each other. The blank stare came back onto Lysander's face, and the oddness returned as well. After a while, I turned my face back to the window, wishing for something to take the anxiety out of me. _What if I was a Hufflepuff? I would never be able to reach such greatness as my dads. Ever. No one has ever come out of Hufflepuff and done anything extraordinary. I would be such a disappointment to everyone who expected things from me. How awful it would be. Plus my eyes would be granted with the colors of a bumblebee every day. How terrible. That alone would cause me pain. Maybe I could convince the Sorting Hat…_

I felt the train jump. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed the familiar surroundings of Hogwarts come into view. This was my first chance to prove myself, and I wouldn't ruin it.

"Do any of you, by chance, know how we get sorted?" Marcie asked. "The third years told me they make us preform a spell, and depending on how well it's done, they pick our houses."

Lorcan's face dropped from its blankness to a look of fear. "What if you can't perform it at all?"

I smiled. Lucky for me, my papa had already told me about the hideous rumors the other years liked to spread to the first years to scare them. Their parents, obviously, had not done them such a kindness. It was very tempting to let them think such things, just until they figure out on their own, but I figured it would be better for their consciences if I just told them. Wouldn't want them to wet themselves with fear.

Lysander bit his lip, and almost matched his brother's distressed expression. "Mother never told us we had to perform a spell."

"Guys, don't you know that-"

"I haven't practiced anything. I haven't even started reading my books yet." Marcie was getting tearful. "You don't think they won't let us in if we can't cast it, do you? I really want to go to Hogwarts."

"Guys, there's a ha-"

"Why didn't Mother tell us?"

"Maybe it's a new procedure. She couldn't have known about it, otherwise she would have told us."

"Or maybe she thought we could already cast it."

"Yes," Marcie agreed, but looked doubtful. "It must be an easy spell. What else would they give first years?"

"But I have barely touched my wand at all…"

"GUYS!" I shouted. They all turned to look at me. "There's no spell. That's just something the older years tell the first years to frighten them."

Marcie wiped at her eyes. "Then how _do_ they sort us?"

"A hat. It looks into your head, and determines where you will go based on your characteristics."

Lysander and Lorcan looked at me with the same look I had been giving them earlier. "A hat?" They said in unison.

"Yes. It's called the Sorting Hat. And it's enchanted to talk, or something like that. That's how we're sorted."

Marcie sighed in relief. "Thank _Merlin_."

"Oh." Lorcan said.

Standing in the middle of a large crowd of other first years, just before the doors to the Great Hall, just waiting to be sorted; that's where I was. After we had gotten off the train, Marcie ran off to spread the word to other first years that there was no spell test. Lorcan and Lysander had hardly left my side (or sides, since Lysander was on my left, and Lorcan on my right…or was it Lorcan on my left and Lysander on my right?), and they stood by me now. I didn't dare look behind me, but I could feel their eyes on the back of my head. Looking down to my fingers, I noticed my thumb and forefinger were tapping a rhythm subconsciously, and I wished this would be over quick enough so I could escape and possibly make some music somewhere. I really needed that release right now.

There was a parting of the crowd, and through it stepped Scorpius Malfoy, with two other kids trailing behind him that I did not recognize. "Hello, Potter."

"Potter?" I hadn't really thought of a last name for me. It wasn't really a necessary thing around people you knew, whether your family at home, or when visiting friends. Now that I thought about it, if I had to have a last name, I would want both of my dads' lasts names, not just one.

"Yes. Your father _is_ Harry Potter. (*gasps from the crowd, and murmuring*) Or are you too ignorant to remember who your own father is?"

I needed something to say. There were many options at comebacks; Witty, personal, kind, awful. But I needed one to make him feel bad for insulting me. "Well, yes. I know he is my father. But, being an orphan, there were more important things to care about than last names. Like having a family." I looked him straight in the eyes, but after what I said, he looked everywhere but mine.

"Oh." And that was all he said.

The crowd seemed a bit disappointed that there was no fight ensuing, but it was better this way. I may not have liked Malfoy, but I wouldn't risk getting in trouble on my first day of school just to get back at him. There were better ways to handle this, without attracting unneeded attention (like teachers). Malfoy turned and stalked away, his posse behind him. Guessing by his actions, he was hoping to irritate me, and possibly humiliate me. I knew he would be back, but not for a bit, and that was reassuring.

"Alright. All first years, please come this way." I looked to the source of the familiar feminine voice and smiled. It was Aunt Hermione.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooh! It's Hermione! :)<strong>

**So I've been rereading the first book in the Harry Potter series, just to remind myself what the whole process of the first day was (if you can't tell). I hope you enjoyed it! Review if you can!**


	6. The Final Start

**Chapter 6: The Final Start**

**Sorry I missed a day. I'm busy a bit early. :P It's not fun, but I'm trying. In all honesty, I am procrastinating by writing this chapter. Terrible of me, but I have to get it done.**

* * *

><p>"The truth is<br>I don't stand a chance  
>It's something that your born into<br>And I just don't belong  
>No I don't<br>I'm just a low-class beat down fool  
>And I will always be that way"<p>

-_Beverly Hills_ by Wheezer

* * *

><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

Aunt Hermione had already told us what we were to do, and the hat had already sung its song. A few people had already gone up, but I hadn't been paying attention to whom, or where they went. I was too stuck on the stanzas of the Hat's song about Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Codnor, Marcie." Aunt Hermione called.

Marcie went up to the hat, a small smile on her face, as if she was trying to hold in her excitement. She sat down on the stool, and the hat was placed on her head. The hat was quiet a moment, and Marcie smiled bigger. _Why on Earth would she be smiling?_

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat shouted. There was an eruption or applause from the Gryffindor table to our right, and so when I sighed, I couldn't even hear myself. I wanted to be in Gryffindor, but I wasn't anything like Marcie.

"Hood, Trevor."

Another pause for thought (if the Sorting Hat could think, which I supposed it could), before a loud, "HUFFLEPUFF!" made me jump out of my skin, and the table just to our left cheered. _I swear, I'm going to be half deaf after this…_

I pretty much ignored most of what went on, fading in and out of focus, but occasionally catching the name of others and where they went, but never taking note of anything. If nothing else, I was too nervous to think any real, solid thought; it was more of just little wisps or worries that passed through.

"Kirk, Purkiss."

"GRYFFINDOR!" (*loud cheering*)

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

Malfoy rose from the crowd, and sat on the stool. I watched him intently, hoping with all my heart he would be a Hufflepuff. I highly doubted he would be a Gryffindor. He was nothing like a Gryffindor, if not, the complete opposite.

"SLYTHERIN!" (*more loud cheering*)

_I hate him_, I thought. I didn't want to be a Slytherin if he was one. It would be just awful if I had to share a room with him. And that only slimmed my chances of being happy with whichever house I was put in.

"Pyrites, Pricilla."

I tuned out again. _I have a 75 percent chance of not being in Gryffindor. And at this point, I'm hoping the odds are in my favor. Would you risk being a Slytherin, knowing very well that Scorpius was in there, just to please your dad?_ The thought simmered. _Absolutely._ But of course, I was never as lucky as my papa.

"Riddle, Nanda."

_And of course, everyone gasps…_ I sighed and walked up to the stool. I was so nervous, I was sure I would collapse. Aunt Hermione smiled at me (which she hadn't done for the others, might I add) and put the hat on my head. 'Good luck' she whispered.

The hat was like any old hat, really. And by old, I mean ancient. It smelled awful. I would need to remember to wash my hair later.

'_How rude.'_ The hat said in my head. _'Now, boy, let me see what is in your head… Ah yes, I see so much talent. Your fathers have rubbed off on you, but will you follow in their footsteps?'_

_Oh, yes please, _I told it.

'_But, of course, you may have a better fit somewhere else. A lovely mind for thoughts, and a vast amount of creativity. I do see you are very loyal, however. Yes…better be…' _"RAVENCLAW!" it yelled out to the room.

My heart just about sunk. It was worse than any ship in history had ever sunk before. It had been a beautiful, glorious ship that carried an entire country of hope and excitement on it. Its floors were shiny and always clean, with only the occasional spray of ocean mist on them that quickly vanished, but left behind its lovely scent. The captain was a kind, and friendly fellow, who always had a wonderful story to share about the many places he has been, and the notable people he has met, with a slight blush to his cheeks that made his experienced face seem young and alive. Like any ship, it wasn't indestructible, but the cheer in the air made it as nothing could ever put a scratch on it. And then a large wave came, and the ship was pushed right onto a sharp rock, which pierced its hull, and sent the thousands or happy people into the rocky waters where villainous sharks waited below, smelling blood within their waters, and the kind captain stayed with his boat, that had been with him most of his life; it was his first, and last, love. The chaotic sea that had once been his friend was now the very thing that brought his end to him now. A once heavenly ship was now nothing more than small bits and pieces of wood that had been a lovely part of such an amazing thing. There was no such thing as remains, just as there was no such thing as survivors.

Somehow or another, I had made it to the end of the Ravenclaw table, at the very back of the room. The closest person to me was about five feet away, looking a bit squished, but otherwise comfortable with their distance.

"Scamander, Lorcan."

I couldn't feel my head. Was it attached to my neck? I wasn't quite sure. My hands wouldn't move to find out. I was pretty much numb.

"RAVENCLAW!" (*cheering at my table*)

_Oh joy… _I sighed as one creepy twin made their way to my side to sit. _And I bet the other will soon follow…_

"Scamander, Lysander."

I was sure of it. There was no possible way they could be more similar.

"RAVENCLAW!" (*more cheering at my table*)

And the other creepy twin made his way to my other side. _At least I have friends now._ I sighed. _But I would still have to tell my dads._

* * *

><p>3rd Person POV:<p>

After being shown to his room, he was relieved at least a bit. He wouldn't be sharing a room with the odd twins, but two other Ravenclaw boys. One was Grant (He didn't dare ask his last name, because he often gave Nanda very intimidating looks), who had short black hair, a large build (he was twice his size, if not three), with black eyes that shot daggers like a highly trained assassin. The other was Vanan Auva, who had a friendly smile, slightly tousled blonde hair, and grey-blue eyes. He was very… (how to put this lightly…) nerdy. He had read _every single page_ of their school books already, _and_ had started reading some of the second year books. Nanda had asked him about what he liked to do, and he went into a long spiel about how he had noticed hardback books always have a better smell than paperback books (whatever that meant), which had stemmed from his talk about his love for reading and smelling books, but eventually turned into the odd looks he got from the people at the library when he smelled books, but _of course_ the librarian _always_ understood him, and did he know that he once met a librarian who only bought books that smelt good for her library, and he has this wonderful book at home called "Pages for the Nose" that smells glorious…

Nanda buried his face in his pillow and tried for a moment to stop breathing (just for long enough so he would fall unconscious), but of course, he had no discipline for his lungs like that; he was a player of instruments, not a singer, after all. Vanan's voice continued on still, even if he had stopped listening a while ago, but Grant just sat on his bed, most likely with the same thoughts going through his mind (_when will that boy shut up? He has to get tired of talking eventually…_). Nanda wasn't tired in the least, but he hoped and wished that it would overcome him at once. But of course…

"Nanda?" Vanan said. "I'm sure you've a favorite hobby. Tell me about it."

He was relieved Vanan had stopped talking, but wasn't sure he really wanted to share his passion with anyone just yet. Then again, would he want Vanan to keep talking about his hobbies instead? That was an easy question to answer.

"Oh, well" He sat upright. "I'm a bit of a music fan."

Vanan's eyes brightened. "Oh really? What instruments do you play?"

Nanda shrugged. "All of them?"

Vanan stared a moment at him before smiling. "Surely you haven't had lessons for _every _instrument known to man. That would take many years. More than you have had."

"Well, no. I haven't had lessons at all."

Vanan was confused, but mostly intrigued. "Then how do you play any instrument?"

Nanda shrugged again. "I just feel it."

Vanan's narrowed eyes studied him, and Nanda was no more comfortable than he was with the twins at his sides. He looked about the room, taking in the blue and black and greyness to it. His thoughts wondered to his life before Hogwarts, and wondered if this was all worth it. _Of course it is,_ he convinced himself. _This is my chance to prove myself._ He knew all of that; he'd only told himself that a million times. But there was a small minority of his mind, one that held his true thoughts and feelings apart from his logic. '_But I don't need to prove myself…I just want to play music, and listen to music, and live and breathe music…for all of my life…'_ But he wouldn't allow himself such a luxury when he had things to accomplish.

"So…Grant, what do you like to do? I'm sure you have a favorite pass-time." Vanan said at last. Nanda shook his head slightly, dreading the answer Vanan might get from him.

Grant merely stared at the ceiling above them. "I like birds," he said simply. Nanda was sure he misheard him. _Did he just say he liked birds? Like, with wings and beaks, birds? That fly through the air?_ It was an odd thing. _But then again, he might not be as awful as his looks show. He is a Ravenclaw, so he should be smart, and smart people aren't (usually) violent._

Vanan smiled. "What sort of birds" What do find so fascinating about them?"

Grant sighed. "Back at home, I have a whole shed full of different types of birds. Owls, parrots, parakeets, ravens, crows, pigeons, blue birds, eagles, hawks, vultures, mockingbirds… I care for them. Make sure they don't eat each other. Help the small ones fly, and release them when they can care for themselves."

"That's fascinating. You know, I once read a book about birds that explained how they have hollow bones in their wings, and that's why they are light enough to fly. It smelled like thick mist, which I found odd. Why a book about birds smell like that I have no idea…"

He rambled on again and Nanda put his face back into the pillow. If he ever needed some information about books that smell a certain way, he would be sure to ask Vanan first.

"…and my mother said maybe it was some sort of procedure they performed at the printing st-"

"Your owl is hungry." Grant interrupted.

Vanan sputtered to a stop. "W-what?"

Grant looked over to Nanda, whose lungs were once again straining to breathe in oxygen through the fibers of his new pillow. "Your owl, Nanda. He's hungry. You should give him a rat or something."

Nanda lifted himself up and looked over to his owl in its cage. Sparo had his face close to the cage, occasionally pecking it with his beak, and then squawking at its solidness; his little bowl of owl food (he wasn't quite sure what it was, but it looked like hamster food) forgotten. Nanda looked back to Grant. "I don't have a rat. How do I get one?"

"I don't know. Ask book-brains over there. I'm more than sure he's smelt a book on how to catch rats before."

"Oh yes!" Vanan erupted, completely ignoring any and all teasing and sarcasm that may have come from Grant. "It was wonderful! Like walking into a museum. History had made its way into its odor."

That sounded quite disgusting to Nanda, but Vanan seemed to enjoy it. "Oh. Alright. How do you catch a rat?"

"The book said a nice piece of food in a small corner would be the perfect way to catch one. Just right underneath a box held up by a stick with a rope to put it so that it lands on the rat, and it's trapped."

"Simple enough," said Grant.

"Oh yes, but where do we get a box, a stick, a rope, and a piece of food?" Vanan asked.

Nanda smiled big and cupped his hands together, focusing his magic on condensing to make the oh so familiar ball of moldable light. "I have that covered."

* * *

><p>Harry's POV:<p>

"Tooooooomm!" I groaned. We had done nothing all day (and by we, I mean me). I just lay on the bed, my face still in my silk pillow. I felt so depleted.

Tom came over to my side of the bed and sat next to me. "Yes, love?"

"I miss our pup."

Tom's hand ran down my back to comfort me, sending chills down my spine. "I do too, love."

"Can we have him back?"

Tom chuckled. "No. He is at school now."

I huffed, but decided to try and pull myself out of this horrid state. "He's probably at the Gryffindor table right now, smiling and talking to his new friends."

Tom stopped petting my back. "I can assure you," he said playfully, "that he is more likely to be sitting among his fellow Slytherin."

I flipped over, a smile on my face. "He would more likely have a pet dragon that breathes fairy dust than be at the Slytherin table."

"When did you get him a dragon? Love, I told you we must discuss what we get him before we get them."

I laughed, picking up the pillow and tossing it at his face. He laughed as well, sending another one my way. A full out pillow war began. We tossed pillows back and forth, laughing and uttering catch-phrases, such as "Take that" and "I'll get you". I stopped throwing to catch my breath from laughing so hard, only to have it taken away again by Tom's lips on mine. I smiled against them and wrapped my arms around his neck. It had been so long since we had been in the house by ourselves, and we had always been afraid of him walking in, or hearing us, if we did anything too intimate (I wasn't very quiet after all). And now we had the whole manor. Tom nibbled down my neck, sending pure excitement throughout my body.

Tom was my mine, and I wanted him. Right now.

I let out a moan and my hips bucked underneath him. He took the hint, and no more than a second later, our clothes were off. It seemed as if we had been together forever, but I the way I felt seeing his bare skin never changed. I let my hands slide down his chest, feeling every muscle in its path tense or relax, like feeling down the body of a snake, but smoother, and warm. His lips made it to my nipple, where his tongue flipped over it playfully, making it hard, and sending unbearable urges my way. My cock was throbbing with hardness and anticipation. Tom barely brushed it with his thigh, and I hissed with pleasure.

"I want you inside me." I groaned.

Tom's delicate fingers traced their way down my sides to my groin, playing with my ball sack. My breathing was heavy, and my hips bucked again. He was so painfully teasing me. His hand made its way to my manhood, and wrapped around it. He moved it down, so agonizingly slow, to the bottom, and then placed his mouth over my tip, flicking his tongue. I squirmed and let lose a small moan. 'Yesss' was all I could hiss with the breath gone from my lungs. He pressed his mouth down further and his hand pushed up, only to go the opposite way again when they met. My nails dug into the bed, like claws. Tom released my cock, and I whimpered. I needed him so badly.

Instead of pressing into me, he straddled my lap, carefully placed himself on me, eliciting a moan from us both. "You're so bloody fucking tight." He moved, ever so slightly, and I gasped. I could feel me inside of him, and it was intoxicating. He groaned softly as he rocked back and forth on top of me. He looked so wonderfully amazing like this; I almost came just by looking at him. He rolled his head back and slowed down, but I couldn't bear waiting any longer.

I flipped us so he lay with his back on the bed, and I stood in between his legs, without ever pulling out. He put his hands on my shoulders, trying to brace himself as I pushed in as far as I could. His nails cut into my skin, but I could barely tell; every feeling was pleasure with him. I moaned loudly, as I made love to him, and my skin was so hot I began to sweat. I was so close, but I held it in. With my last bit of energy, I grabbed Tom's cock and tugged on it, matching the rhythm of my thrusting. His hips bucked against mine, sending a shock so large through me. I came with a loud "TOM", and released my load inside him. I rode out the last, lingering waves while still tugging on Tom's hard member. He groaned and whispered my name repeatedly.

"Harry…oommmhh, Harry…"

He came all over his stomach. I smiled and used a quick cleaning spell on us both before collapsing on top of him. We lay in a naked heap, regulating our breathing and just enjoying each other's company in silence, like we always used to. It was a nice moment, just to relax, but of course, my thoughts had to ruin it.

"Tom" I said, looking into his gorgeous, soft crimson eyes. "I know we've really hoped Nanda would be in our houses at Hogwarts, but I'm afraid he will only be more like me if he's a Gryffindor. He's going to get into trouble, and do risky things, and get into fights… I don't want him to be like me."

Tom smiled somberly and stroked my cheek. "Love, he will be in whatever house suits him. We have no control over that, only he does. And I think you doubt yourself. Have we not raised him well enough to prevent him from self-destructing?"

I sighed. "I know we have. I know things are so much different for him than they were for me. But that doesn't stop me from worrying. My instincts are never wrong, Tom. Something is going to happen, and I'm afraid it's going to happen to him." I grabbed his hand that was on my cheek and squeezed it. 'I just want to keep him safe,' I whispered.

Tom shushed me quietly and placed a tender kiss to my lips. "He will be just fine, love. He is safe where he is, and we are safe where we are. Nanda is perfectly capable of handling anything that may be heading his way, as are we."

I placed my head on his shoulder. 'I hope your right, love.'

* * *

><p>Severus Snape's POV:<p>

I sighed once more and rubbed at my temples. I was pacing the room so quickly, I felt ever so slightly light headed, but I over looked such a small detail. There were more important things to attend to, especially now. School had just started, and the students were so unaware of the threat that may or may not be lingering over their heads. Even their parents had no idea of these troubles. I was one of the only knowledgeable people, and I could thank my previous occupation for that. There was so much uncertainty with this; it could very well not be a threat to us at all, and I could just go about my duties as headmaster, or it could put Hogwarts in such danger, more than it ever had been (even when Tom Riddle was the Dark Lord). I had to decide what to do about this, and I had to decide as quickly as possible, for each moment could very well be a crucial one.

Walking back over to my desk, I picked up the parchment letter and read it over once more, studying it intensely. When it had arrived by hawk, I knew it was something out of place. I nearly dropped it after reading it the first time, for my hands shook violently; I was shocked (to say the least) of receiving such a thing. But as I continued to reread it, something about it did not make sense. Why would I be sent such a letter?

I needed more time to think, and more opinions on this matter. At the moment, I had neither, but of course, I might never get the first. Time was of the essence, and so I needed the opinions as soon as possible. I quickly sent a Patronus message to Hermione, head professor of Gryffindor and my most trusted to help deal with sticky situations like this (she had, of course, helped with such things throughout her school years), not to mention her (*clears throat*) intelligence level is far superior to those of others that may be available to me at this moment. _Except maybe two people…_

As my doe went off, I disapparated to the very place where those people would be: Riddle Manor.

* * *

><p><strong>Cliff hanger! :) Just enough to keep you wondering. <strong>

**Now on a more serious note, I have no idea when I might update next, but I'll try my hardest. It will definitely be within the next week. I'll update ASAP! :) Thanks for reading. Please review if you can!**


	7. Plans and Change of Plans

**Chapter 7: Plans and Change of Plans**

**Look! It's actually chapter 7 this time! :) Sorry it took so long. Thanks for all the good wishes with my thumb getting better. I appreciate them all! Hope you like this chapter. **

* * *

><p>"It's time to make our move<br>I'm shaking off the rust  
>I've got my heart set on anywhere but here<br>I'm staring down myself  
>Counting up the years<p>

Stop and stare  
>I think I'm moving but I go nowhere<br>Yeah I know that everyone gets scared  
>But I've become what I can't be<br>Stop and stare  
>You start to wonder why you're here not there<br>And you'd give anything to get what's fair  
>But fair ain't what you really need<br>You don't need"

-_Stop and Stare_ by OneRepublic

* * *

><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

Vanan looked at me with wide eyes. He still couldn't believe I had made a stick, a box, and a rope from nothing. With all his bookworm-smarts, you would have thought he had heard of magical clay, but he apparently hadn't. Grant just smiled and helped me set it up correctly. There was this mutual effort in the air, for we had all used our heads to assess this situation.

"All we need now is a piece of food," I said when we had finished setting it up. "Cheese maybe?"

Vanan chuckled. "Rats don't only like cheese. That's such a stereotype. They'll eat any type of food."

"Yea…" I said. Something didn't feel right with this, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Hmmm" Grant hummed. "What if we catch someone's pet that got away? I don't think they would enjoy it much if we fed their rat to your owl."

_That was it! Students could have rats as pets, and we didn't want to accidently feed it to Sparo._ I nodded. "Yea, so time for plan B." The box, rope, and stick vanished into nothing and I sat on my bed thinking of a different plan. It was actually quite fun to have something to do, rather than just sit and listen to Vanan talk on and on about books he read and how they smelt.

"I still don't understand exactly what kind of magic that was," Vanan commented as he stared at where the magic clay had been. "You will surely have to teach me how to do that one day."

"Hey, maybe you could put it in a book and he can smell it." I smiled at Gary's joke and we both laughed a bit while Vanan was oblivious. "But, yea. I think that would be interesting to learn."

I smiled. _Maybe my roommates wouldn't be so bad after all._ "Alright. I'll teach you both. But first, we have to feed Sparo." I looked to Sparo and he squawked and pecked at the cage.

Then we heard a smack. I glanced at Vanan, who had smacked his forehead with his palm. "Of course!" he said. "How idiotic of me not to think of this sooner. Why don't you just release him outside and let him catch his own rat?"

It was so obvious. And here we were, thinking of some plan to catch one. Owls are predators; they were born to catch their prey. Such a revelation made me want to smack my own forehead.

"Oh. Right," said Grant.

I got up and went to the cage, but before opening it, I had an idea. "Do either of you, by chance, have any parchment and a quill and ink with you right now?"

"Of course." Vanan said, and pulled all the items out of his trunk at the end of his bed. He handed them to me, and I wrote a letter to my dads.

_Dear Papa and Dad,_

_I know I've only been gone a few hours, but so much has happened. I've made friends. On the train I met twins, Lysander and Lorcan, who told me they are the sons of Papa's friend. They are a bit weird, but they are smart and resourceful. I also met a girl named Marcie. She's such a Gryffindor. Of course, I also met two guys who I'm rooming with, Grant and Vanan. Grant likes birds and he cares for them. Vanan likes to read (and smell) books. I've been sorted into Ravenclaw. It's been really fun so far. _

_Love Your Pup,  
>Nanda<em>

_P.S. If you could feed Sparo a rat, he would be very happy. He's been hungry, and I haven't had time to let him outside to eat._

I sighed and folded the letter. After taking Sparo from his cage, I handed him the letter, opened the window, and he flew off my arm.

"Who'd you send that letter to?" Vanan asked.

"My dads. I'm sure they'd want to hear about which house I was sorted into." Grant nodded.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," I doubted Vanan would expect any less of an answer if I told him I did mind. "But how is it with your dads?"

I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know your dads used to be enemies and all. Do they ever fight? Or anything awful like that…"

I shook my head. "No. I've never heard them fight once. Or even disagree on something. Even when they talk about political things."

"Oh," was all Vanan said in reply.

I half smiled. "Yea. Lots of people seem to think that because of who they were in the past that they are affected now. But really, they are not anything like I've heard they used to be."

The room was silent a moment, and then Grant chuckled to himself. Vanan looked at him like he was awfully rude. "What?" he said. "I just remembered what he said to that blonde brat, Scorpius, earlier."

I couldn't help but grin, but there wasn't really anything funny about it at all. "You heard that? How is that funny?"

Grant's smile faded. "I don't mean it to be rude, but we all knew you were an orphan in the past, but you threw it in his face, and he had to back down so he wouldn't look like an absolute git. That really showed him."

I smiled bigger. "Really? I just wanted him to stop bothering me. He _is_ a git."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me twice." Grant said.

Vanan was looking between us. "Who's Scorpius?"

I scoffed. "Trust me. You don't want to know him. He's the whiney, spoiled, and annoying son of Malfoy. He's, of course, a Slytherin."

Vanan wrinkled his nose. "Slytherins…They think they are so clever, when really they only have a bit of brains every now and then. And they use them for awful things…I once read a book about this one wizard who was a Slytherin. It smelt like salt water taffy, of which I absolutely hate. It makes me want to vomit."

"Scorpius Malfoy makes me want to vomit." I said.

Grant chuckled. We fell back into a silence, but it wasn't really such a horrible feeling; not awkward, or pressured, just relaxed and pondering. _Maybe I would like being a Ravenclaw. I would never be around idiotic people ever again. That was a relief._ But still, something inside me was squirming, and made me so uncomfortable. I couldn't remember what it was for a moment; it was like a distant memory after such an exciting event, but something reminded me. It was my music. I hadn't played anything in so long, and it was just _begging_ to be let loose. Really, it was awful to keep it cooped up for so long. _If Vanan thought my magic clay was interesting…_ I was a bit iffy though. I didn't have anything to play, and I didn't know how to transfigure anything, not to mention I had barely met these boys. My music was something personal; a deep, inner part of myself that held my secrets and worries. I wasn't sure I was ready to share myself with them.

But still, my music pushed against my skin, trying to force its way out.

My wrist flicked unintentionally, and a breeze whipped through the air with a lovely whoosh, like distant rain, but smoother. Vanan and Grant didn't particularly move at all, and so I figured they hadn't heard. That temporary loss of control startled me; I had no idea my music was in such control. It was worrying. Obviously, I would have to let out my music whenever possible, because I don't believe losing control of my body would be so great during class.

I sighed internally about my newest conclusion. My hand traveled to my neck charm that was always around my neck. The edges were ridged, much like coins can be. It was tempting to pet the wolf, and arrive in the wondrous hills I had grown up in, but would I be able to get back here? Possibly, but I didn't want to take a chance and find out; it was much too risky. I was no daring and curious Gryffindor. I was (apparently) a smart, practical Ravenclaw. And of course, there are always smarter ways to do things than to just bombard whatever the problem may be.

_Well, they will have to find out sooner or later. I couldn't just keep my roommates from my music. _That was settled, but then there was the other problem. _It wouldn't hurt to ask if they might have some ideas for me. Three minds _are_ better than one._ I glanced over at Vanan, and then over to Grant. Vanan was inhaling the scent of a very worn book (of which I could assume was his favorite, judging by his expression). Grant was just lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Grant, may I ask you something?" He removed his brown eyes from the ceiling to look my way. There was no reply, so I just continued on. "Would you happen to have anything…musical?"

He looked at me, and then looked around him. I realized he had no trunk at the end of his bed, just a small backpack. _Where are his books? And school supplies? Surely he wasn't without them…_ He shook his head silently. I bit my tongue; I wasn't sure I would exactly want the answer to the questions I had just asked myself. I sighed and looked over to Vanan.

"How about you, Vanan?"

Vanan took one more sniff of his book before looking back to me. "What? I'm sorry. I was lost in this book. It smells like peppermint and chocolate." The title read _Small Projects for the Hobby-less Male. _How in the world such a book would smell that way was a mystery to me.

"Oh. Uh…would you happen to have anything musical?"

"Of course!" Vanan smiled and reached into his trunk. In his hand was a book. About music. _Not exactly what I meant…_ "Here. This one smells like cinnamon." He handed it to me and I took it.

At first, I was reluctant to bring it to my nose, but I figured there was no harm in it. I inhaled and my nostrils filled with the scent of paper, like any other book. I pulled it away and looked over it. _Maybe I smelt it wrong?_ I shook my head and placed the book on the bed in front of me where I sat. _Musical Theory and Various Types of Instruments_. I brushed my fingers over the hardcover lightly, and when they were off, the cover to the book lifted itself and opened to the first page. My eyebrows rose and the corner of my mouth tugged up a bit. As I was about to try it again with the next page, Grant spoke up.

"You could always ask someone else. I'm sure there will be others in the common room."

_Yes, but my music is private._ I sighed and decided maybe he was right. After all, I had to control my music before it controlled me.

* * *

><p>3rd Person POV:<p>

Harry and Tom were sitting in their chairs in the small meeting room (Harry in the golden one, Tom in the Green one). Snape had found them (thankfully after they had found their clothes once again) and told them of the important news he had to inform them of. Snape made no effort to sit, but instead stood in front of the grey chair between them and looked at them both, waiting for some cue that they were ready to receive the information. Of course, they never could have been ready for it.

"Go on, Severus," said Tom, nodding his head to him once.

Snape took a deep breath through his nose. His greying black hair moved ever so slightly when he did so. He was sure (more than sure) that they would not like to hear this, but there was no other choice but to tell them. They were allies he so desperately needed (not that they would ever be enemies, of course. But he would need their help).

"I received a letter earlier today. Travers was requesting my participation, or rather my help. Apparently, he, Bellatrix, Fenrir, Thorfinn, Antonin, Alecto and Amycus have made their own group after you released them from yours. They plan to carry out the things you did not, and create a new world of pureblooded wizards. He did not inform me exactly of what they have planned specifically to do, but I do imagine they would unleash a certain type of chaos that no others may be capable of."

They both stared at him. Harry could not believe his ears. Bellatrix and the other insane ex-Death Eaters had formed a new group? And they wanted Snape to help them? And his son was at school right now, possibly in danger if the new group decided to attack the school? He would rip their arms and legs off if they ever even tried to lay a finger on his son. He wanted nothing more than to go and fight this battle and get it straightened out before anything awful could happen. He was as ready as ever…

Thoughts ran through Tom's mind, one right after the last, circling, and calculating, and concerned. They would have to keep this information as secretive as possible. No one could know, so that panic would not spread through the Wizarding world. Merlin knows they didn't want the Ministry to panic and refuse to believe that the group didn't exist. They all knew how much would get accomplished if that happened (which, of course, would be nothing, if not create more problems). "How many people have you told?"

"Why does it matter?" Harry said before Snape could get a word out. "We have to put this down before they take action."

"Harry, that would not be wise. We have no proof other than Snape's letter that this group even exists. If we went to the Ministry now, they would tell us it was not enough." Tom loved Harry, but he really could be thick sometimes.

"Ministry? Why can't we go handle this ourselves? The Ministry will refuse to believe it, much less put it down, no matter how much evidence we have."

Tom sighed. "At this moment, there is nothing to handle. They have not taken action yet, and we have nothing to defend. If we go running in to start a battle now, others will only see it as the Dark Lord covering his tracks, or worse. There is nothing we can do until they have taken action. Now…" Tom looked to Snape from Harry's fierce glare. "How many?"

"The only other person I have informed is Hermione. You agree in my choice of trust, yes?"

"Of course." Tom had come to know Hermione as the bright witch she always was (since Harry insisted they visited Ron and Hermione and Rose often enough), and knew of how amazingly smart and thorough she was. If he hadn't known she was a Gryffindor, he most definitely would have taken her for a Ravenclaw.

Harry nodded in agreement, biting his lip to keep himself from jumping up and going to find Bellatrix himself. He didn't exactly know what had possessed him to hate her so (maybe it was that she was so insane, she celebrated killing people, like Dumbledore), but he couldn't help the burning in his fists that so wanted to make contact with her face. Of course, he trusted Hermione with this information; that was a given. They had been friends since first year, and he knew her so well. He could picture her reaction when she found out, like she was making that face in front of him right now.

Snape looked from Tom to Harry. He could see Harry's reluctance at holding the patience Tom had insisted upon him. For a moment, he wished he could be young again; able to feel again, and not dwell too much on what others think. But of course, he hadn't had such remarkable memories from that time; he wouldn't dare relive them. "I think it may be in our best interests to wait it out. We will need to inform the Minister of Magic. That will ensure extra precautions are taken."

Harry sighed. This was against everything he was, but he knew deep down it would do nothing to try and attack now, since they were obviously not even organized yet. But still…

"I agree. For now, that is all we will do." Tom nodded once at Snape, who nodded back and left the room.

Hermione paced in front of Snape's office. He said he'd be back soon. She didn't know how long exactly it had been since she had gotten his letter, but it seemed like he wasn't coming fast enough. She needed to speak with him now. Not only did she have to talk with him about the possible threat of a new evil that may be forming, but also about what she was doing before she had gotten the letter. She hadn't quite finished, since she was interrupted by the letter, but she had found enough to tell him something important.

After some time passed, she realized she still had classes to prepare for tomorrow. She left him a note.

_Dear Severus,_

_I received your letter. I waited by your office for you to return, but I had to leave to finish my preparations for class. I will, of course, come back to discuss what actions you have chosen to take with the boy. I have something else to inform you of as soon as you are available. I was doing some research that Harry had asked me to do, and I stumbled upon something that may spark your interest, as well as someone else's. He may be more at risk than you may have thought. Please send me a message as soon as you can. _

_Sincerely,  
>Hermione Weasley<em>

She charmed the letter, and it slipped underneath the door, making its way to his desk. Hermione sighed and reluctantly turned away, heading back to her classroom near the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

><p>Scorpius Malfoy's POV:<p>

I hated my dad. I wanted nothing more to do with him. But what was I to do? He was Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, and he would do what he damn well pleased. Or so everyone said. But all I saw him for was a man who would do anything to keep what was given to him, and who lived to please others to remain of value. I didn't want to be a Malfoy. But what other choice was I given?

I sat in the common room, two goons beside me whose names I didn't care to remember. They weren't real friends, like they thought they were. I only let them follow me around so I would look tuff, and no one would dare cross me. It seemed to be working so far. No one in Slytherin said anything. In fact, they steered clear of me completely. I had a whole couch to myself. It was rather nice, but that meant I wouldn't make any other friends. I wanted a real friend, but I only half understood how to have one. I didn't dare tell anyone this, though. I was a Malfoy. I didn't need friends.

_But I bet Nanda has made some friends already._ I hadn't meant to let my thoughts drift that way, but once they did, I was reminded of his earlier comment. _"Being an orphan, there were more important things to care about than last names. Like having a family." _How awful it was for him to say something like that. I felt terrible. My father would have told me to continue to irritate him, and scolded me for not doing so. But I just couldn't be that awful. Not that I wanted to be awful at all, but I really didn't want to be that awful. I wondered to myself. _He probably has more friends than me. Real friends too. Not fake ones._ That wasn't fair.

Looking around the room at the décor, it almost felt as if I was back at home. I shivered at the thought. I had grown to love my house, it had once been of such good taste, with silver, and gold, and navy blue, and wonderful colors everywhere. But more recently, once my dad had started inviting over (what I assumed to be) his friends he had from work. I didn't like them much; they were so odd, and many of them liked to call me weird names, like "heir of Malfoy", and others behind my back (when they thought I wasn't listening) like "little blonde brat". I don't remember when, but our décor began to change, from lovely almost royal colors, to blacks, and greys, and most especially greens and dark reds. There weren't any reds in the Slytherin room, thankfully. The red things scared me, almost like they had been painted with blood.

"You cold, Scorpius?" the goon to my left asked. He was rather large in build for a first-year, and (if he so desired) could beat me to a pulp with his bare hands. I didn't care much for his dark hair and dark eyes, for they made him look paler than I was, but with more grey undertones, almost like he was some sort of zombie.

"I'm fine. It's just a bit chilly in here. I'm going back to my room."

"Uh, alright," said the other goon. He had tanned skin, but not very darkly tanned. He had dark hair and eyes as well, making me stand out between the both of them. He wasn't as large as the other one, but he was far more anxious to bully other kids, as I had learned. "Should we go with you?"

I scoffed. "I don't need bodyguards to follow me everywhere I go. You two are fine without me." I stood and made my way to my room. My roommates were rather quiet (either in general or just around me, I couldn't exactly tell). From what I had noticed, one liked to sleep and the other liked to stare at walls. Even now, neither had unpacked their things, or make any effort to even move from their original positions. _At this rate, I won't even know anyone other than those two goons._ I sighed and sat down on my bed, doing a mixture of what my roommates were doing: lying down and staring at the ceiling. I wanted tomorrow to come already so I could focus more on school and less on people at school.

My father was sure I would be the top of my class. He told me I couldn't let anyone be smarter than me. Sure, in one class maybe, but definitely not overall. It would ruin the Malfoy name. He didn't say it out loud, but I figured that meant I would be disowned. But now, that didn't seem so bad. I didn't want to be a Malfoy; people were scared of me on the first day, and there were odd people at my house, and I had to be the smartest of all the first years, and be expected to tell the same things to my son (because having a girl would mean no heir, and so I would _have_ to have a boy). I didn't want that burden on my shoulders. _Maybe I should fail on purpose._ But then I would not go to second year. What would get on my dad's nerves enough to disown me, but still make it far enough to not have to repeat first year. There had to be a line I could cross… _Of course! All I have to do is let Nanda be smarter than me. That shouldn't be so hard. He's a Ravenclaw._

It was settled then. And now, all I had to do was wait until tomorrow to set my new plan into action. I looked over at my roommates, who only movement was breathing and blinking. I sighed and looked at the ceiling once more. Of course, it would a long time before that would happen.

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><p><strong>:) Review if you can. And I'll try and get the next chapter out sooner this time. Hehehe. Thanks for reading.<strong>


	8. Tricks of the Mind

**Chapter 8: Tricks of the Mind**

**Nothing much to say here other than ENJOY!**

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><p>"And I feel the way that every child should<br>Sit and listen, sit and listen  
>Went to school and I was very nervous<br>No one knew me, no one knew me  
>Hello teacher tell me, what's my lesson?<br>Look right through me, look right through me  
>And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad<br>The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had  
>I find it hard to tell you<br>I find it hard to take  
>When people run in circles it's a very, very<br>Mad world"

-_Mad World_ by Gary Jules

"Cause when you cry  
>All your tears I will wipe away<br>And when you laugh  
>Who you think got you that way?<br>When you dream big  
>When you wake up<br>Is it me you wanna see?"

-_Look at Me_ by Keri Noble

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><p>Harry's POV:<p>

I should have held him while I had the chance. Tears fell down my cheek, and dripped onto the floor. I had been so absorbed in trying to stop Bellatrix, I hadn't let myself just calm down, and hold Tom like I used to. And now he lay before me, his chest unmoving. There was no pulse left in his body, and the blood around him was a pure, glittery crimson, just like the glazed over eyes he had. His cold, pale skin was nothing but an empty shell; there was nothing inside it left. I couldn't believe it all. My mind refused to wrap around it, because if it was true, my life was as good as over. I would have no reason to get out of bed every morning, or even wake up. What would I do?

Nothing. This wasn't real. It was just a terrible, horrible nightmare. I couldn't bear losing Tom, and so my mind was showing me how awful it would be. But I wasn't waking up. I laid my head down on his cold chest, and tried to hear even the smallest beat of a heart. I wasn't waking up. I placed my hands on his limp ones and pulled them up to meet my lips. I wasn't waking up. Tears poured from my eyes and my sobs over took my breathing. Why wasn't I waking up? Every moment seemed to become more real, I could see that. And soon, it was plain this was no dream. I buried my face in his chest. My whole world was crashing down around me. _This was my fault. All my fault…_

Then someone's arms wrapped around me, and my eyes opened into the familiar darkness that was my room. _Bloody fucking hell,_ I thought. My breathing was shaky, and tears streaked my cheeks. It _had_ been a nightmare after all. It didn't matter if I had known it was one; my evil mind could always convince me otherwise. I hated how real it became, and how much pain I still felt, even after waking up. I turned around in Tom's arms and put my lips to his. I loved him so much. I never wanted to lose him, even in my dreams.

'_You are alright now, love. I am here.' _

I forced myself to calm. Everything was alright now, and it was nothing real. I always found it so odd how years could pass in dreams, even if only a few hours passed. In my nightmare, a full 4 years had passed, and I felt every single thing that had happened like it had been real. Nanda had been a great student at Hogwarts, but he did get into trouble (I passed on my cloak and map after his first year). Bellatrix and her gang had attacked us several times, trying to get revenge. She had taken Nanda during his fifth year, and placed him under imperious. Tom, Snape, and I had a plan to get him (by breaking into their lair using Snape as a spy), but not only were we caught, but Tom was taken prisoner. I then went on a solo mission to get him back. I fought for a long while with Bellatrix before finally killing her, only to find that she had already done the same to Tom.

_Merlin, that was a horribly realistic dream…_

Tom wrapped his arms around me, and I sighed at the warm embrace. It was so different from the cold shivers I had let come over my body before. It had actually been a while since my last nightmare. They usually came around every so often, just when I was really stressed. Obviously, I was a bit tense about this new threat those ex-Death Eaters posed. It was _more _than enough reason to be stressed, but did it really call for such vivid (and just plain awful) dreams?

'_Well, I suppose we should get up then? No point in sleeping for only a few minutes.'_

I broke our embrace to look at my clock. _6:54. Alright then._ I stretched my arms up and then crawled over to the edge of the bed (after which, the time was _6:56_). I stood carefully and rubbed my forehead, almost tripping over the bird that was pecking at the carpet. "Bloody hell!" The bird squawked and hopped backwards. Tom, now behind me, laughed quietly. I groaned and pulled the note from its leg (and receiving a bite for my clumsiness). The words were so blurred, I could hardly make anything out. "My glasses" I mumbled. After a moment, I realized they wouldn't come until I said the magic words. "_**Accio glasses**_." They finally made their way to my hand, and I put them on. "Oh, it's from Nanda."

_Dear Papa and Dad,_

_I know I've only been gone a few hours, but so much has happened. I've made friends. On the train I met twins, Lysander and Lorcan, who told me they are the sons of Papa's friend. They are a bit weird, but they are smart and resourceful. I also met a girl named Marcie. She's such a Gryffindor. Of course, I also met two guys who I'm rooming with, Grant and Vanan. Grant likes birds and he cares for them. Vanan likes to read books. I've been sorted into Ravenclaw. It's been really fun so far. _

_Love Your Pup,  
>Nanda<em>

_P.S. If you could feed Sparo a rat, he would be very happy. He's been hungry, and I haven't had time to let him outside to eat._

I smiled to myself. I was so glad he was having a good time at school, and making friends.

"What does it say?" Tom asked, looking over my shoulder.

"Looks like we both lost the bet. He's a Ravenclaw." I joked.

"Well at least he is not going to be stupidly brave."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Or royally insidious."

"Touché."

I put the note down to look at Sparo. "We have to feed him a rat." I said to Tom.

"No problem. We have plenty. I am positive Nagini wouldn't mind sharing."

I sighed again. "Alright then. Come along." I crouched down and Sparo hopped onto my outstretched arm.

* * *

><p>3rd Person POV:<p>

School started the next day. All the students reported to their designated classes, and the professors began their introductory lessons. Nanda had Potions class first, with Professor Zabini, and then Defense Against the Dark Arts, with a new professor, since the one they had last year had some family across the pond that were having troubles, and needed to help them, and so keeping the job was "out of the question". It had been an easy first day. There wasn't much to learn, just a few simple things, like ingredients and some potions they would make throughout the year, or a simple introduction into what exactly we would learn to defend ourselves against, accompanied with a chapter to read for homework. It was all so interesting to Nanda. He took the liberty to ask his professors questions about things he had wondered about during class, or how well his dads had been in the subject. His potions teacher didn't know anything about his dad, but he was sure his papa hadn't done too well in the subject. His Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had no clue about either of them, but did give him a lovely story about his school days, and how, in his third year, he turned a boggart (which had started as a person gushing blood) into a sprinkler, and how the teacher let them all run through it afterwards. Nanda liked the story, and looked forward to the rest of the year.

During lunch, he had sat next to Grant and Vanan, as well as Lysander and Lorcan. They ate, and laughed at Vanan, who said his food smelled like a book he once got for Christmas that was about Dinosaurs, and put his nose into his potatoes on accident. Then they all talked about their classes. Grant apparently didn't like the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Nanda told him about the conversation they had, and that he was scared of a body that was gushing blood. Grant smiled and joked about playing a prank on him. No one was serious about anything, and that was the fun of it. Even the twins showed some expression for once, and they joined in on the conversation when they could. Nanda was having a brilliant day, and he hoped all his school days would be like this.

He was heading back to the Ravenclaw tower, all his lunch mates with him, when someone stopped him from going onward. Nanda stopped mid-sentence and looked to Scorpius Malfoy. He sighed to himself and prepared himself for something awful. "Yes, Scorpius, may I help you?"

Scorpius grinned like he had just won the house cup. "I see you know who your superiors are then."

Nanda stared at him a moment before replying sarcastically, "Oh yes, sir. Is there anything I can get you, sir? Anything for you, sir." Grant snickered behind him. Lysander and Lorcan merely gave him an uncomfortable blank stare. Vanan looked between them, placing what they had previously told him in their room about Scorpius, and then looked around hoping they weren't doing anything against the rules.

Scorpius' smiled faltered, but didn't quite disappear. He looked around Nanda, seeing the group of people around him made him so jealous, he was almost going to give up entirely on this little mission of his.

"Where's your friends, Scorpius?" Nanda asked seriously. He wasn't trying to sound mean, or anything; he was truly curious. It was unusual for bullies to travel alone.

He scoffed. "Those two goons aren't really my friends. They just follow me around everywhere. It's sad really. I told them to go off and do something on their own for once." In all truth, one had gone off to talk to his older brother, and the other had followed after, obviously not wanting to be around Malfoy alone. He had pretended to be alright with it, but he was rather saddened that even they didn't want to be around him. But, of course, he wouldn't tell them that.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Grant asked. "Because we were on our way to our rooms. Please, just hurry on with whatever nonsense you have to say."

Scorpius was a bit frightened by that boy, but didn't care to show a hint of such. How dare he insult him! He really had good intentions; he just had to get past himself a moment…

"I wanted to talk to Nanda alone. If you wouldn't mind leaving a moment." There wasn't an ounce of sincerity in his voice, and he felt awful for it, but he really just wanted to talk to Nanda. He didn't intend to cause any harm. But he dragged it with him wherever he went, and after a few generations of Malfoys, others were sick of it.

Vanan shook his head. "Oh no. I don't think that would be a good idea." Grant nodded in agreement, and the twins stared. Scorpius was rather pressured under such a stare.

He looked to Nanda, hoping he conveyed even the smallest bit of sincerity, but he was sure his father had beaten any such thing out of him. Or so said the scars on his back and upper arms. But he still felt it.

Nanda sighed. "What harm could it do? I'll just be a moment. Go on, I'll catch up." He hoped Scorpius wouldn't do anything awful, but he had his doubts. Any kindness Malfoy was trying to convey was lost long ago, but Nanda couldn't think of a single situation where he would be in any danger around Scorpius. He was just another first year, after all. His friends left hesitantly, especially the twins, but they continued on, and soon, Nanda and Scorpius were at the side of the hallway, away from where others would care about what they were talking of (unintentionally, of course. They hadn't moved or anything. That is just where they happened to stop).

Scorpius glanced around them and then back to Nanda, who was awaiting some sort of verbal harassment, but got nothing but silence. "What did you want to talk about?" He was suddenly curious of the strange reason that was causing this annoying boy to be quiet. Certainly it was something he wouldn't expect.

In a slit-second decision, Scorpius finally decided to say something. "I'm sorry."

Nanda blinked a few times. He hadn't expected that at all. Even if someone had told him that would happen, he wouldn't have expected it. A Malfoy apologizing? That alone was unbelievable. "O…kay…I forgive you."

Scorpius sighed. "You don't understand how awful I feel about it. I hadn't realized that you wouldn't care to pick a last name because you were more focused on just having a family. I…I'm sorry."

Nanda was rather shocked at Scorpius (anyone would have been), but he couldn't help but smile. "I already forgave you. There's nothing to worry about."

"Alright…" Scorpius bit his lip. Now was the hard part. "There's one thing I wanted to ask you for. If you don't mind, of course." He added.

A Malfoy needed something from him? This was getting more peculiar by the second. "Sure."

Of course, if Scorpius said this last part, he would have to explain his reason for such a thing, and then Nanda would know something about him he would rather not share with anyone. Not even himself, sometimes. He didn't really want to trust such a thing to him, but what other options did he have? "I want you to have better grades than me."

_Yep._ Nanda thought to himself. _I'm definitely in another dimension. There is no way this would be happening otherwise._ But the odd thing was that this was the same dimension he had always been in. "What?" was the first thing that would come out of his mouth, though his mind was screaming _why?_

"I want your grades to be higher than mine." He looked around to the now almost empty hallway. "My father would hate if you had better grades than me."

Nanda just stared. "So…you _want_ your father to be angry with you? Why would your father be angry with you?"

Scorpius clenched his fists and relayed the information. "He expects me to have the best grades out of everyone else in our year. I want to have good grades, but it's too much to have the best."

It was all so confusing, but Nanda guessed there was something in this subject he shouldn't touch. There was something sensitive about it, and he wasn't one to push on wounds. "Alright. I'll try and be smarter than you, then." He wasn't quite sure how to reply, but he tried his best.

Taking this chance, Scorpius nodded and said a small thanks before leaving, his face red. Nanda was utterly stumped as to why anyone would want to anger their father, but figured he never wanted to find out. He loved his dads, and would try his hardest to please them. He smiled to himself. _Surely being the smartest in my year would be a way to make up for being a Ravenclaw._ With his hopes renewed about his dads, he started for Ravenclaw tower again.

Thoughts of Scorpius filled his mind. His odd actions towards him, and his request. _Maybe he wasn't who I thought he was._ Don't judge a book by its cover, was the saying. It was easier said than done, of course. But there were those who could manage it. Of course, there were other methods to judging a book, like Vanan's method of smelling it. He wouldn't smell Scorpius (that was just plain weird); the metaphor wasn't literal. He would let his previous thoughts of him be wiped away and let them start on a new slate, for now. He didn't expect it to stay that way, but he would, nonetheless, give him the chance to be different in Nanda's mind. Possibly, even a friend. It was too soon to tell exactly what would happen, but he was sure things would get better.

* * *

><p>Scorpius Malfoy's POV:<p>

_Now that that's over with…_ I walked the opposite way that Nanda was headed, to the dungeons. I was so exhausted, since I had lost so much sleep last night. It was difficult to fall asleep knowing that would wake in the morning and my life would be the same, if not worse. I had little fantasies of how much better everyone would be without me. My dad needed an heir, but I wasn't going to be the one to take that on, so if I was gone, he would be able to have another, who would be twice as great as I could even dream of being. And he wouldn't be so frightened of the odd people that dad invited to the house. In fact, he would probably be friends with them himself. And he would naturally be the smartest on in his year, without even studying. My dad would have the perfect child to show off. And I would be free of his constricting expectations.

The door to the dungeons was before me now. "Slytherins are superior" I said, and the door swung open to reveal the common room. People were chatting away to others, sitting on the couch, or at the table, even the floor. I could care less about whoever they were, and so I walked right past them all to get to my room. When I arrived, my roommates were not there. I sighed and lay on my bed. What was there to do now? _My homework, of course_. I grabbed a book and opened it up to the chapter I had to read.

That night, I lay awake in bed. Just exactly like the night before. What was the point of sleeping if nothing would change overnight? I wasn't eagerly awaiting tomorrow's events, not that I knew what they were exactly, other than classes. I desperately needed something more to life than school and being a Malfoy. Was there something I could do to make it more worthwhile? _No_ I thought. _I'm stuck in this miserable little rut. All I have is my name and my schoolwork. _Nothing else really mattered. Sure, I had a bunch of things others didn't, like fancy clothes and toys, expensive supplies and even a broom. I should be the spoiled brat every Malfoy heir before me was, but I didn't much care for fancy stuff. If only I didn't have to be a Malfoy. I didn't want to fit the mold they had set up for me. I wanted to be myself, but I wasn't even sure what that was anymore.

There was always the glorious bliss of leaving this world; if I could watch everything from a ghost's perspective. My father would get his perfect son, and maybe Nanda and his friends wouldn't need to worry about me. Plus the added fact of being relieved of such a duty. I came to a great conclusion: I wasn't cut out to be a Malfoy. But of course, there was nothing I could do to fix that.

I went through the next few days in a blur, barely even going through the motions of school and homework and meals. I don't remember ever sleeping, but I must have slept sometime, because I was never really tired. There was nothing exciting or different about these days at all, except for the growing oddity of Nanda. He would say hello as he passed me in the halls, and smile. One day, he asked me how classes were going, and I told him they were fine. Then he went along his way. It was so weird, I thought I might be imagining things.

"Hi, Scorpius." Nanda waved as he passed.

"Hi." I barely said before he was behind me. I turned back to him and watched as his friends looked at him and questioned what he had done. He shrugged and said something. I shook my head and turned back to head to my next class, which was…I couldn't remember, but my feet took me there. _Potions, of course._

I sat, not really paying attention until my name was called to answer a question, which I would always answer correctly. I had spent the time from receiving my letter to the start of school reading my potions book. It had been so fascinating then, but now it was as grey as my eyes, just like the rest of my life. There was nothing I could think of that would help me fix this.

_Of course!_

There was nothing _I_ could think of, but maybe someone else could think of something. But what exactly was I trying to accomplish_? I want to be rid of these guidelines my father insisted I live by_. How could I do that? _Two ways. Dying_ (out of the question) _or being disowned_. And how could I be disowned? _That was the question…_ And I knew just the person to talk to.

"Mr. Malfoy, what happens if the porcupine quills are added before the cauldron is taken off the fire?"

I looked to the board, on which was written _"Boil Curing"._ "Green smoke is released. The potion made will melt the pot and burn any skin it comes into contact with."

The professor smiled. "Correct." His smile wasn't a happy one exactly, but more of a proud one. He was the head of Slytherin, of course. "Five points to Slytherin." I didn't much like him, even if I was one of his favorite students.

And I had the rest of class to sit through. It was so much longer than it should have been.

When it was finally over, I sighed and made my way down the hallway once more. I had no idea where my feet were taking me, but it definitely wasn't the dungeons, where my bed would be. I focused my eyes, and noticed I was surrounded by a crowd of students, all who were entering the Great Hall. _Lunch._ I walked over to the Slytherin table and sat myself next to my two goons. I ate in silence. No one bothered to even acknowledge my presence, and I was alright with that. I mostly poked at my food with my fork, but I forced a few bites in. It was something pretty tasteless and mushy. And soon enough, lunch was over.

I walked back out through the doors of the Great Hall and someone poked my arm. I looked to see who else but Nanda. "Hi, Scorpius."

I almost stopped in my tracks, but my feet kept pulling me to my next class. "Hi, Nanda. Could I tell you something?"

Nanda's happy face went serious for a moment, and he reminded me of a wolf, with his brown hair and earthy eyes. "Sure."

We walked with the crowd until we almost passed an empty classroom. I opened the door, and stepped inside, Nanda closing the door behind him. I turned to him, not quite sure of how to say it other than to just spit it out. "I need your help with something."

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><p><strong>:) This chapter didn't take too long to write. And I have another one already done coming right after it. I've been writing when I really should be doing something else. Hahaha, HAPPY LABOR DAY!<strong>


	9. Ripped Love

**Chapter 9: Ripped Love**

**See? I told you I had two chapters done. :) And this one is extra long and stuff. :) Enjoy!**

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><p>"Oh friend<br>Why you so shy?  
>Ain't like you to hold back<br>Or hide from light  
>I hate to turn up out of blue, uninvited<br>But I couldn't stay  
>I couldn't fight it<br>I hoped you'd see my face and be reminded  
>That, for me, it isn't over<p>

I wish nothing but the best for you, too  
>Don't forget me, I beg<br>I remember you said  
>Sometimes it lasts in love<br>But sometimes it hurts instead"

-_Someone Like You_ by Adele

"I watched you die  
>I heard you cry<br>Every night in your sleep  
>I was so young<br>You should have known  
>Better than to lean on me<br>You never thought  
>Of anyone else<br>You just saw your pain  
>And now I cry in the middle of the night<br>For the same damn thing"  
>-<em>Because of You<em> by Kelly Clarkson

* * *

><p><strong>(A few days later...)<strong>

Nanda's POV:

There was my father. Not my dads, my biological father. I may have learned who he was, but that didn't change anything between us. There was no sudden obligation to find him (or rather his grave), nor did I really even care much about him. He wasn't much of a father anyway. What kind of person would kill themselves when they had no one else to care for their son? Did he even care about me? Probably not. And so I didn't care for him, either.

His hair was so light brown, like mine. His tan eyes were so much brighter than I had ever seen them. He stood next to a woman. She had blonde hair, a short stature, and lovely green eyes. I immediately understood her to be my mother. She wore a beautiful smile, little black ballet flats, and a pink summer dress with the slightest bump over her stomach. It wasn't like I expected her to be skinny, but the bump was out of place (and not a baby bump). They laughed at nothing and just enjoyed each other, much like my dads did. It was such a lovely sight to see, two people so deeply in love. It seemed like it would never end, and their love would go on for eternity. But, of course, I knew it couldn't.

My father's smile faded and his face turned serious. "Venus, I've been thinking…"

The woman smiled and replied sarcastically, "Oh really? That's lovely. I suppose your brain must be exhausted."

"Venus, I'm serious." The woman's playfulness left and he continued. "I feel terrible for keeping this from you for so long, but you have to understand that I had to pick the right time for it."

"Right time for what? Morsus, what are you talking about?"

"I'm a wizard, Venus. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. That's why those weird things happen around our son. He's a wizard, too." He cupped his hands around hers.

The woman, Venus, had a confused look on her face. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

The man, Morsus, sighed and released her hands. "Watch." He pulled a wand from his pocket and pointed it at vase that held roses. "_**Wingardium Leviosa**__" _The rose lifted into the air and floated over to Venus. Her eyes widened as the rose floated just in front of her, and she took it from the air. Morsus lowered his wand. "I'm sorry I never told you. Don't be angry with me."

Venus looked to him, and dropped the rose. She held a distinct look of fear, like a rabbit when a wolf is near. She stumbled backward, away from the rose and Morsus, almost tripping herself. "You're…you're…"

Morsus put his wand away and took a step towards her. "Venus, please understa-"

"No!" She yelled, moving backward once more and hitting a table. "Don't come near me! Y-you…you freak!"

"Venus, love, I'm not a freak. I'll never use magic again if you don't want me to, but I wanted you to know that our son will need to be taught." He gestured over to a small basinet with blue and white decorations off on the other side of the room. I could see my little hands trying to reach the speaker that was playing some sort of lullaby. The mobile above me had little animals on it, and they waltzed along to the music.

She shook her head, sending blonde strands of hair out of place, and a tear came from her eye and rolled down her cheek. "I can't love a freak. You're not human!" She yelled and turned away from the man. He reached out a hand and caught her before she could leave. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" She pulled her arm away and ran out the door.

Morsus stood in the room, still as a statue, until he finally collapsed onto the floor, tears running down his cheeks, and his tan eyes sad, much more like I recognized, as he realized what had just happened. His love had run out of his life, and she wasn't going to come back.

The minutes passed, and he never moved from that spot, still crying; 30 minutes, then 40, then an hour. I started crying, high pitched and whiney. He never moved, nor even flinch. The animals above me stopped dancing, and began to shake around violently. A lion was sent flying, as was the giraffe. And I could feel the pain of hunger in my stomach. Why wouldn't he do something? It wasn't hard to care for a newborn baby, as long as there was formula and diapers. Really, I had been very entertained by myself for a while, but I couldn't fend for myself yet. I was a baby! What on Earth was he thinking? I was going to starve to death, in my own filth.

Another hour passed, and I cried myself to sleep, the hunger pains never really leaving me. The man was lying down on the floor, curled up in the fetal position. The sun outside set, and it was dark now. The night settled around the room, and the absence of lights caused everything to be so much less visible. He murmured to himself about her coming back, but I knew she wouldn't. I understood that was the end, and now was where his horrid pain started, and mine as well.

But mostly mine.

Someone knocked on the door, and the man didn't make any effort to move. "Hey, Morsus. It's Hirm! I saw Venus leave. Is everything alright? Morsus?" He knocked louder, waking me up once more, my screams twice as loud. "Morsus? Morsus!" He yelled, against the loudness of my wails. He stopped a moment, then rammed the door, which almost fell in on itself easily. He turned the lights on and looked around the room and found me screaming in my basinet. He picked me up carefully and tried to shush me, but I would not quiet. He scanned the room again and found the man on the floor. "Morsus" he said. "Are you alright?" The man on the floor did not reply. Hirm looked me over like I was a foreign language. His black hair and slim nose made him look like the kind of guy who would befriend you just to take your wallet, but his calm grey eyes contradicted that.

He placed me back into the basinet and reached into his jacket, pulling out a wand. A blue light ran over me as I cried. After it went away, Hirm sighed in relief. "Only hungry" he told himself. He looked around the room for something to feed me, but I could already tell he wasn't going to find formula; I was much too young. He shook his head and picked me up again, and we apparated away, leaving behind the man on the floor to wallow in his own pain.

I pulled my head from the pensive. I wasn't exactly sad about what had happened. It was more of pity, mixed with horror. I understand how horrible it must be to lose someone you love, but I was something he loved, right? Was I not as important to him as she was? It was a horrible thought. I looked over at Grandpa Snape, who looked to me, waiting for my reaction so he could gauge it and calculate his response, and then to Aunt Hermione, who was biting her lip, looking like she was watching someone kick an innocent puppy. I felt angry at the man who was supposed to be my father, but would I really change what had happened? My life now was much better than it would ever have been there. Even if the man hadn't killed himself, he never would have been fit to care for me properly.

I merely shrugged. "I guess he cared for her more than he cared for me. But I'm glad that other man took me away."

Grandpa Snape laced his fingers together in his lap. "He took you to his mother, and she cared for you that day. He told her he had been asked to babysit, but that you had started crying the moment your parents left. His mother taught him as much as she could in such a short time. And he took you back, coming to check on you every day until your father finally got himself together enough to feed you. Still, he only did so once a day, spending most of his time hurting himself, and then healing the wounds. It wasn't until you were three that someone came and removed you from there, after Hirm found your father dead. You would have gone with him, was it not for the fact that he refused you."

Aunt Hermione sighed and put her hand on my shoulder. "It really is awful. I know you didn't want to see it, but it helps you know where you came from." She took her hand off and reached behind her for a book, flipping open to a page that released dust throughout the room. I wondered, unintentionally, what Vanan would think it smelt like. Her finger traced down the family tree, from my name, to the name of my father, and then to his father, and finally to his father's father. "Your great grandfather has an interesting history. He…uh…" she sighed again and flipped to a different page. "Apparently he had an affair with an Erlking. The product was your grandfather. Since he was a wizard, he altered his wife's memory to think that she had him. Your grandfather was considered a criminal, because he would seduce women and lead them to their death, but that was just his Erlking heritage. He was said to have a lovely voice, and he could 'make the waves dance along' to whatever he was singing. He finally had your father, who was a quarter Erlking, but didn't show any signs of it." She closed the book quickly, releasing another cloud of dust that made me sneeze. "Sorry."

I looked to Grandpa Snape, who still held his look of studying. I felt (more or less) like a specimen under a microscope; they could my every cell, and all I could to do was blur the glass. Of course he knew how I felt, but I tried my hardest to try and make it seem like I didn't feel it so strongly as I did. _My great grandfather was a cheater and a liar. My grandfather was a monster. And my father didn't care for me in the least._ More and more, I felt like I would only miserably fail under my dads' expectations. There was nothing to amount to with such a poor family history. Everyone would see my ancestry (of my biological family and my adopted family), and question how I would turn out. They would doubt me, and the pressure would build, and I would crack like an egg. No human could stand that sort of pressure.

"We think," Aunt Hermione started once more, "that the Erlking genes only show up every other generation, since you may show a sign of it. Or that it may be every other, and your children will show definite signs of it. We won't know until you tell us more about how you think your talent for music works."

The music inside me slowed, but still pushed against my hands with the same amount of force. I nodded to Aunt Hermione, then looked to Grandpa Snape. "I don't really care about it anymore." With that, I reached for the portkey and ran my thumb across the wolf. A tube sucked me into the air and placed me back in the hills I loved so much. I raised my hands to the trees, and finally let the sad melody leave my body.

The wind ran across my face, filling my ears with a beautifully haunting breeze. Tears ran down my cheeks, and a dark cloud came into the sky. The leaves rustled and swirled in a small circle on the ground as the cloud finally released its heavy burden, sending water to the green grasses, and soaking my robes. Yes, I knew I would be in trouble for this. And it wasn't that I didn't care, for somewhere deep in my mind, I did. But something had come over me, and I didn't think (for once). I wanted nothing more than to let my sadness overtake me, but my music forced me to continue on. The wind howled and leaves splashed around in puddles as I moved my arms across myself wildly, trying with all my might to control the beast that had freed itself. It was quite frightening, but it was my music all the same, and I let it flow like I always had.

The last gusts of wind sounded, and the dark clouds parted to reveal the yellow sun. The leaves landed softly on the wet hills, and they silenced. I lowered my arms and stood looking out to it all. A hand was on my shoulder and I turned to see my dad there, a look of concern in his red eyes. I hugged him hard and buried my head in his chest, finally letting my own dark clouds of rain release their burden of water. I wanted to go back to school, but I missed his warm, comforting arms. I had two fathers who actually loved me. And that was more than enough to fix the damage my previous one had made.

* * *

><p>3rd Person POV:<p>

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "We tried to do this lightly" she said, staring at where Nanda had been.

Snape stood and crossed the room to his window. "I knew we would not succeed in being gentle with him," he turned now to face her, "but he did need to know of his lineage."

"But he left before we could even explain to him why he needed to know. He may be in so much danger, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it, or even know before it's too late." Hermione was a bit panicked. Nanda was no less than a nephew to her, and she couldn't stand if something happened to him.

"He is a smart boy, Hermione. After he has come to terms with it all, he will come looking for that answer. He is, after all, a Ravenclaw. The first in his family, you said?"

"Yes. His father was a Hufflepuff, and his grandfather was a Slytherin. From there, they are almost all Hufflepuffs, with a few exceptions of Gyffindors."

Snape nodded. "I see."

Hermione bit her lip a moment. "Are you sure he will question why _before_ his life is at risk?"

He sighed. He had just asked himself the same thing before Nanda had arrived in his office. He hated himself for taking such a large gamble, much like Dumbledore had done with many others, but obviously there was no other choice at this point. "As I said, Hermione, he is a smart boy. If he does not question us about it, he will find out for himself. Much like his dads did in their Hogwarts years. He is more powerful than he would ever know, and not only because of his Erlking heritage. He has learned his basics in magic from the two most powerful wizards in the world. I have little doubt in him."

"There is little doubt, not no doubt." Hermione said simply.

"There is always some doubt, no matter what it is. They said it is going to rain later tonight, but I look outside and see how bright the sun is. Not even a cloud in the sky. It makes it harder to believe them sometimes, by looking at what is before us." He looked out the window. The sun was, indeed, bright and sunny. Perfect weather for the weekend. He could see several kids outside, riding brooms, or chatting, but all enjoying the nice weather.

"But will it rain tonight, then?" Hermione asked.

He let the faintest of smiles come over his face as he saw a fight starting near the lake. One boy had pushed the other, and the other was backing up. A small crowd was gathering. If nothing was done, surely it would get so much worse. "We will not know until the time comes." And then he disapparated.

Hermione was confused a moment until she looked out the window and saw him walking over to the crowd of students. He pulled them apart and looked to the one who had pushed the other. She sighed and turned to leave his office. She had papers to grade.

* * *

><p>Bellatrix Lestrange's POV:<p>

No matter how I looked out the window, I saw him. There was nothing that would remove him from my mind; not sleep, or killing muggles. Nothing had the same feeling it had when he told me to do it. There was nothing I longed for more than his silky voice, his cold, slim fingers curled around his wand, and pointed at his prey, is snake-like face glaring at it with such evil. I would admit that I missed the Dark Lord I had once known; his power, and evil, unmatched, and his lust for blood so similar to my own, almost like we were meant to be side by side and take the world together. But he was dead. And Potter was at fault.

I would make him pay for turning Lord Voldemort like he had, and taking him from me. He would tremble before me as I hit him with every possible form of torture possible. I would watched the light leave his eyes, and drink the blood that poured off of him, and pour salt over his wounds, and keep him close enough to life just to continue torturing him, until he would die from it all. Then I would avenge the Dark Lord, and nothing would stand in my way from achieving his goals. The world would tremble beneath me, and I would make sure every last muggle would suffer the same fate. I imagine the world in flames, nothing being able to stop us, having the power to do as I wished, every pureblood trembling at my feet…

Travers stepped into the room, and he pointed his wand at me. I instinctively grabbed my own and matched his stance. What on Earth did he think he was doing? I was his new leader, his Lady of Evil, and here he was, showing his disloyalty. I would have to teach him a lesson. "What do you think you're doing?" he said.

"Protecting myself against traitors. Lower your wand or I will make you regret ever returning." He hesitated a moment before he lowered his wand and relaxed his stance, but I did not. I could already imagine how lovely his body would look covered in blood, and how it would shake underneath me as he begged for forgiveness…

"I'm sorry, my Lady. I have forgotten my place. I only came to ask why we are planning to attack."

"Because I ordered us to attack, and I am your leader."

"But, my Lady, we don't have nearly enough forces to do any real damage, much less succeed in battle. We need more time, and planning…"

"No. We do not." I said through my teeth. I lowered my wand and looked to my left forearm, where my Dark Mark once was. Once Voldemort had died, it had vanished. Now we had a new one right over it, or course, but I never forgot the original. A hawk now stood there, wings spread wide (from the distance of my inner elbow to my wrist), standing on a bloody corpse of a snake. I was tempted to call another to "assist" me in helping this poor fellow in learning his place, but thought better of it. While I may have wanted nothing more than to see him in pain, he was right about our numbers; we could not afford to lose anyone. Not yet.

"But we will lose the battl-"

"It is NOT a battle." I huffed and let my tone fall to something quieter. "It is a more of a mission. Antonin planned it, not me. If it were up to me, I would have sent you all to kill them much earlier."

"A mission, my Lady?"

"Yes," I purred. "We are going only to take something, and then we are going to leave. It really is that simple." I looked back out the window and saw the pale face I had once loved that had risen from a cauldron.

"What exactly are we taking?"

I turned back to him. How completely incompetent of him. "_**Crucio!**_" He fell and withered on the floor. It gave me a rush in my mind to watch him in such pain. I smiled evilly and continued the spell until he started to scream. I released it reluctantly, wishing nothing more than to continue. I walked over to his limp and barely breathing body and lowered myself onto the ground of Malfoy Manor to whisper into his ear. "We will take the one thing that may keep them both from fighting. The one who will be the air we need. The one thing that will leave the world at our mercy."

"Th…the…" he struggled.

"Yesss, The Grey."

* * *

><p>Scorpius Malfoy's POV:<p>

It seemed a decade before Nanda finally met me at the lake. I was sitting against a tree, looking out to the sparkling waters, when I heard footsteps rustle the grass. I turned to see him walking towards me, a sort of defeated look on his face, with complementary puffy eyes. He obviously was not happy about something, but I wouldn't bother him about it. I hated when people bothered me when I was like that.

"Hey, Nanda. You're late."

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." He plopped down next to me and I took the moment to study him some more.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course," he said. "I already promised you I'd do it. Plus, that is what friends are for. I'm not going to let you do this alone."

"Well, we can save it for another day. If you need some time or something…" I was far from saying anything comforting, though I dearly thought I should.

"I'm fine." He looked up at me, his oddly light-brown-and-dark-green eyes looked at me.

It occurred to me that he had called us friends. I smiled a bit. I actually had a friend. "Alright then. Let's get started." I stood up. "The book said it would be a long and difficult process, but how hard could it really be for the both of us? We're practically wizard prodigies."

Nanda laughed and pulled the book from inside his robes. "You better thank me for getting this book. It was in the restricted section."

"I'll thank you after we use it and put it back."

He opened it up to a bookmarked page, and began to read. "To begin the process of becoming an Animagus, one must first be able to feel what sort of animal they might be, and be able to transfigure anything into that animal."

"How in Merlin do we know what animal we are going to be?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe there is another section on it. This is just the introduction…" he flipped through some more pages, first backwards, and then forwards once more. "Here." He pointed to the page. "You can never be sure of what your Animagus will be until after you have transformed into it. However, it is possible to make an educated guess of its general likeliness by spell. The Classification charm (spoken _**Razza genere**_) is used on animals to know what sort of animal they may be if it is unknown. A slight alteration on this charm (_**Razza hominus**_) has been known to be close enough a guess to successfully aid in Animagus training."

"Seems easy enough." I pulled out my wand and pointed it at Nanda. "_**Razza genere**_" and nothing happened.

Nanda laughed. "Well, it's obvious that I'm a human. Let's go find an animal whose breed we may not know."

And I had a great idea. "Got it." I said. "Let's go to Hagrid's."

We didn't have to walk far before we saw his hut. It was a rather small hut, considering all the animals he probably had inside (and I could smell the place from where we were). Through his small window, we could see Hagrid inside, making tea and caring for a sort of monstrous plant that was by the window sill. It concerned me how he could care for so many odd creatures.

Nanda knocked on his door, which I had barely realized was before us (since I was lost in thoughts about air fresheners). There was some scuffling inside, and then the door opened. "Ah, Nanda, Scorpius. Nice ta see ya. Wha' be bringing you two 'ere?"

"We were reading this lovely book we found in the library," Nanda started. "and we found a spell that reveals what creature something may be if no one knows. We wanted to test it out on some of your animals."

Hagrid nodded. "Alright. Only as long as ya don't tell old Sev 'bout 'em. He'd have 'em long gone 'for I could even blink." He stepped aside to let us in, and so we went. "Good timing. I just made some tea. Would ya like a cup?"

That awful smell wasn't the animals; it was the tea. "Uh, I'm fine, Hagrid. None for me." I looked around at the various animals that were covered hastily with sheets, of which Hagrid removed after we entered. How such creatures could pass for furniture was beyond me. One in the corner looked like it could easily rip my arms off, with it vine-like arms covered in odd spikes of some sort.

"I'll pass too. Not much of a tea-having kind of day for me." Nanda looked about the room, then set his gaze back to Hagrid. "Can we try it then?"

" Uh course ya can. 'ere, use 'is 'un. I don't really know wha' it is muhself." He pointed at a creepy sort of thing in a cage beside us.

Nanda pulled his wand from his robes and cast "_**Razza genere.**_" Small sparkles of light escaped from his wand and circled the creature, which bit at them like they were food. They finished dancing, and then flowed to the little blank plaque on the cage. I couldn't see what they were doing, but Nanda read out "Niffler. What on Earth is a Niffler?"

Hagrid smiled. "They's used for huntin treasure, that they is. Beuty." He pointed to another one behind us. "Now this 'un."

It was an odd looking bird that just looked at me with large eyes. I lifted my wand. "_**Razza genere.**_" The sparkles that circled the bird frightened it, and it vanished a second later. The sparkles then stopped and floated to the floor. "Diricawl" I read.

"Dat 'ad ta be the fahest Diricawl I ever did see…" Hagrid mumbled to himself.

"Alright. Well, we can both cast the spell just fine." I said.

"Thanks. We'll see you later Hagrid. I want to read up on some other spells to try." Nanda smiled and waved to Hagrid as he walked towards the door, and I followed close behind him.

"Sure. Any time, Nanda, Scorpius."

The moment we were out of his ear shot I said, "One thing accomplished."

Nanda scoffed. "Yep. Only about a hundred more."

* * *

><p><strong>:) Good plot starting up. Please review! I would love some kind of feedback to make my stories better if possible. M'kay thanks!<strong>


	10. A New Reason

**Chapter 10: A New Reason**

**:) Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"I used to stand so tall<br>I used to be so strong  
>Your arms around me tight<br>Everything felt so right  
>Unbreakable<br>Like nothing could go wrong  
>Now I can't breathe<br>No, I can't sleep  
>I'm barely hanging on<br>Here I am once again  
>I'm torn into pieces<br>Can't deny it, can't pretend  
>...<p>

Broken up deep inside  
>But you won't get to see the tears I cry<br>Behind these hazel eyes"

-_Behind These Hazel Eyes_ by Kelly Clarkson

* * *

><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

"Alright then." I looked to Scorpius. It was odd how fast we had grown to be friends. Only a week ago he had told me about his problem. _'I don't want to be a Malfoy anymore. Do you think you could help me with that? I have no idea what to do.'_ I took a few days to think about it. He had told me that he had to be disowned, when there was actually another option for getting away. And that is where our new (and might I add, illegal) training came in. "Next, we try the spell on ourselves." We were back to the lake by now, the bright sun slowly lowering itself from the sky, but not quite too low yet, so that it still sent yellow beams of light to shimmer across the waters. I made a mental note to see how my music would work with such a beautiful lake.

"Right then." Scorpius pulled his wand from his robes. He seemed so sure of himself, and so confident in being who he was. But I could only guess how awful his life was if he wanted to get away from his family. His hand rose and pointed his wand at himself. "_**Razza hominus**_." He shut his eyes tightly, but nothing happened.

"Nothing is happening" I told him after he didn't open his eyes.

"Oh." He opened his eyes and looked around himself.

I thought to myself. _Why wouldn't it work? Maybe it can't be cast on oneself?_ "Let me try." I pulled my wand out and pointed it at him. "_**Razza hominus**_." My magic flowed more easily than my music had earlier. I was still having a hard time believing such a force was inside me. It had once been so docile, but it had almost destroyed the hills I had come to love. My dad had been able to clean them up, but the bare trees would have to be given time to regrow their leaves. Little bits of light shimmered and surrounded Scorpius. He remained completely still watching them as they swirled around him.

They finally floated off him, in a sort of line, like follow-the-leader, settling on the watery shore of the lake. They set miniature ripples across the water's surface, but spelled out distinct words. "Leporidae" I read. "What does that mean?"

"Is that a sort of animal? Whatever it is, it doesn't sound like I would want to transform into it." Scorpius scrunched his nose.

"It sounds like it's Latin. Maybe it's a classification."

"A what?"

I laughed quietly to myself. "Classification. It's how muggles have organized living things. There are six kingdoms, then different Phylums, Classes, Orders, Families, and then a genus and species. Maybe it's the name of one."

"Alright. How do we know for sure?"

I thought to myself. I was sure it would take years to find it in any book in the Hogwarts library. Of course, I had a library where I could find it within an instant. _But my dad already told me that I shouldn't leave school. I would definitely get in some trouble. Unless, of course…_ I smiled.

"What?" Scorpius asked. "What's so funny?"

"I have an idea. But first, write that down and then you can try the spell on me."

Scorpius shrugged and pulled some parchment and a self-inking pen from his pocket to copy down the word. He folded up the parchment and placed it back in his pocket, replacing his wand to his hand. He looked to me, and I tried to prepare myself for being surrounded by little specks of light. "_**Razza hominus.**_" I inhaled. After a moment, nothing happened, and I released my breath soundlessly. Scorpius scrunched his nose. "_**Razza hominus**_."

I bit my lip. _Can he not cast it?_ It made me curious as to how I could. "Uh, are you casting it all right?"

Scorpius huffed. "I think so." He looked at his wand, almost as if it was the one that had done something wrong. It made my mind whirl as to why he would blame his wand.

"If you don't mind me asking," _And I really hope you don't mind me asking,_ I thought. "How long did it take to get your wand?"

He looked down and shrugged. "A really long time. Almost until the store closed. We finally just bought one."

I was almost immediately sorry I asked. He looked so defeated; nothing like his usual confidence. It was disturbing, in a way. I would rather he be confident and rude like a normal Slytherin rather than this. But of course, if things went the way I wanted, I would never have been in this situation (but maybe talking to Marcie instead). He fell silent, and I had the dire urge to break the new silence that had entered.

"Well, what kind of wand is it?"

"Rowen with dragon heartstring. 7 inches."

Nanda looked at Scorpius' wand. It was almost awkward in his hands. It obviously didn't belong there, but I had no idea what sort of wand might; I wasn't a wand maker, nor did I have any knowledge of wandlore. _It wouldn't be smart to give him my wand. What to do then?_ "Well, I'll cast it on myself then. I'll read up on wands later, and we'll get you a new one." I smiled. "One that works better."

He sighed. "Alright."

I pointed my wand at my head. "_**Razza hominus,**_" and little specks of light swirled around me. They almost tickled, like I was soaring through the air, carried by the slightest breeze. And just as they had started, they stopped swirling and floated to the floor before me.

"Aves" I read. "Write this down, too. We can go to the library later. But right now, I think it's time for lunch."

Scorpius looked over to where I was looking. Other students that were outside were heading back inside.

"Alright" he said as he finished copying it all down. He folded the parchment back up and put it in his pocket, followed by his wand. I grabbed the book and put it away as well.

"Off we go."

* * *

><p>3rd person POV:<p>

They made their way to the Great Hall, Scorpius trudging behind Nanda, concerned that he might not want others to see him even remotely close to him. Nanda was busy looking about the school, admiring the lovely architecture, but feeling a bit sad that it was not made for carrying out beautiful notes on forever, to be lost in the air itself, and sending chills down the spine of every last listener (because he had daydreams about such a thing every moment he got. What he would give to have an instrument...). There was nothing more appealing to him, at the moment of course, than lunch. After all that hard training (which would really have been hard had they not been who they were) had left him famished. He smiled and looked back to Scorpius.

"Hurry on. We don't want to be late for lunch."

Scorpius didn't catch the hint at all, but did hurry on to Nanda's side, still worrying about what he would say to him once they reached the doors. Probably something awful. But it was alright. As long as they were friends, he could stand being alone some of the time. They had now joined a crowd of other students, all making their way to lunch. Scorpius could feel other students look at him, their eyes burning holes in him. He wanted to look the floor, hoping they would look away, but his first instinct was to find them, and give them a sneer, to show he wasn't afraid, even if he was. His eyes scanned the crowd, only to find that he met no eyes at all.

The doors came to them faster than they would have thought. Nada stepped through them without any effort or cares, already heading to his table just to his left. He wanted to talk to his friends, enjoy lunch, and let his troubles leave him. As carefree as he seemed, something had been itching at the back of his mind, though he couldn't put his finger on it, and he would have nightmares about something, only to wake up and not remember a thing about it. Grant and Vanan had asked him several times during the night what had happened, only to get the same answer each time.

Feeling alone once more, Scorpius broke off Nanda's path, and made his way to the Slytherin table.

"Scorpius" Nanda called to him. "You're not going to sit with us?"

_The looks that burn…all that awful attention…all those hard eyes…_ Scorpius knew what would happen, and he tried to avoid it at all costs. "I'd rather sit with a fire breathing dragon" and then he turned back to his table.

"Oh," Nanda said, more to himself since Scorpius had left. He was unusually sad, but, of course, he _had_ said he would rather he be a rude Slytherin than not. He sighed and sat down by his friends, his music making the slightest push against palms.

"So, his first year isn't going that great then?" Harry asked Tom. They had been discussing their son for a while now, and his sudden emotional outbreak (not to mention that he left school when he shouldn't have. But their boy wasn't a trouble-maker. There had to be a good reason.) "Did you ask him what was wrong?"

"No. I only told him he should be back at Hogwarts." Tom sighed. He loved his son, just as much as he loved Harry, and it hurt him to see him like that. "But I don't believe it would have to do with school. He would have told us if it had."

"What on earth could do that to him?"

And just like an answer to all their problems, a doe made of light entered the room. "Harry, Tom" it greeted, its familiar voice immediately catching their attention. "You both will meet me in my office after lunch. I have important information that concerns you." And then as quickly as it came, it faded into nothing.

"It must have to do with Bellatrix and her gang." Harry stood up, pulling his wand from his pocket instantly.

"Harry, Severus said after lunch." Tom stood as well, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. He knew Harry could go without meals, but it pained Tom to see him do so. It brought back memories that would only plague his mind.

"I'm not hungry." He apparated to Snape's office, and sat down in the chair just before the desk, waiting for Snape to return, since he wasn't currently there. Tom sighed and sat in the chair next to him.

Lunch was almost over, but Nanda had barely touched his food. Something still itched in the back of his mind, and the more the thought about it, the more it would fade away, and he would think it was nothing. But the moment it left his mind, it itched again, begging him to figure it out.

"Hey, Nanda, are you sure you're alright?" Grant asked him, and he focused back on his table of friends.

"Yea, I'm fine. Just a bit stressed. Have you ever gotten the feeling your missing something very important, but you can't remember what it is?"

"Sometimes." Grant replied.

"Oh _yes!_" said Vanan. "I absolutely despise that. I tried finding it out once by reading a book that smelt awfully like a pie my grandmother used to make me. I got so lost in the smell, I completely forgot about the odd feeling."

Lysander and Lorcan smiled, but Lysander actually had expression to his face while his brother held that blank stare. Grant snickered and Nanda couldn't help but let a laugh go. They never really understood his stories, but they were always so odd, they made everyone want to laugh.

"Well, I'm going to go see if I can figure it out before I head to the library. I'll see you guys later, then." Nanda stood and left with a wave.

Once in the hall, Nanda could see Snape off in the distance. _He'll know what I should do._ He followed after him, hoping he was going to his office (which Nanda figured he was. He was going that direction, anyway). The hallways were empty, but definitely not quiet, since the loudness of the Great Hall rang through and bounced off the walls. Not that Nanda was particularly looking forward to another chat with Snape, especially after what they had talked about earlier, but he had the urge to call to him, and make sure that he wasn't off to do something important. He bit his tongue, though, and kept following.

Snape was now before the door to his office, and the spiraled stairs appeared before him. He didn't usually take the long way, but he wanted to take his time getting to Harry, for he knew how he would feel about what he was about to tell him, and Tom (but mostly Harry). He sighed and started up the stairs. Nanda, closer behind him now, quietly walked behind him up the stairs.

"Hello, Harry, Tom. I'm sure you both are waiting for the news I told you I would relay" Nanda stopped. His dads were up there. What were they doing at Hogwarts? What news was there to tell? "And I have every intension of informing you as quickly as possible, so I will get to my point."

"Thank you, Severus" said his dad. What on earth was going on?

"Hermione was doing as you asked, Harry, and researching Nanda's background. What she found may very well shock you, as well as provide a new threat. She found a friend of his biological father, and asked him for information about it. He kindly donated memories, and so we have an amazing record of what happened.

"His mother was a muggle. His father kept from her that he was a wizard until they had Nanda. Once he broke the news to her, she saw him as inhuman, and left him. His father was so depressed, and only grew more so as time went on. When Nanda was three, he finally committed suicide, and the friend put him in the orphanage where you adopted him two years later.

"That, of course, is disturbing, yes, but not exactly why I called you here. His grandfather was part Erlking. He seduced women, raped them, and then murdered them afterward. Of course, he was a wizard as well, and he was able to escape the law by use of magic, as well as escape the Ministry by using a sort of illegal magic that Hermione and I have yet to understand, but has something to do with a complex sort of wandless magic. We have reason to assume it may be connected with Nanda's magic, since he does not need a wand to make music, but it seems that he does not have the extent his grandfather did. His father showed absolutely no signs of this, at all. This sort of power may skip generations, and Nanda's children may be affected, or it may be completely docile once it is no longer the dominant blood."

Nanda's eyes widened. They had obviously kept a lot of information from him earlier, but now that he wasn't supposed to be listening, it all came out. So, his Aunt Hermione had actually talked with Hirm, and his grandfather was worse than they had explained, and his Erlking blood could be dangerously powerful. Why hadn't they told him? He should have known these things. He should have been the first to know.

"Severus, what do you mean he does not show the extent his grandfather did?"

"Well, from what we know, it is just a little hobby he has. Hermione and I have never seen him do anything destructive with it, or even be able to do much more than create little tunes. We have guessed that the Erlking blood may be thinning ou-"

"It has been destructive" his papa said. "Just earlier today, he came home, and he completely destroyed the trees outside the manor. Tom saw him. He couldn't even walk closer to him until he was finished with it. He created a storm out of nothing, with winds that blew a few of the smaller trees out of the ground, and left all of them without leaves."

He didn't want to hear this anymore. Nanda could feel the random anger rise within him as his music formed a sort of tornado inside him. He didn't want to hear what he had done to his precious hills, or what his blood relatives had done, or what was wrong with him. But he couldn't leave. He _had_ to know why. He had to know why his dads were there, and why his music was dangerous, and why he was a threat. _Why…_

The room was quiet a moment. The back of Nanda's eyes burned, and he could feel the tears build up.

"Severus" his dad almost whispered. "What threat does this pose?"

Snape was silent a moment more before replying. "Bellatrix has been looking for something new. She wants a sort of weapon against you both. What would be more convenient against an enemy than to take their son _and_ have him be the power behind success?"

Nanda lost his breath, like it had been punched out of his lungs. He was speechless. Someone wanted to take him and use him against his dads? He couldn't think of anything more horrible. He slowly made his way back down the stairs and out into the hallway, in a sort of numbness. School didn't much matter anymore. He obviously had much bigger problems.

"Over my dead body." Harry was shaking with rage. "If that bitch thinks she will even lay a finger on him, I will kill her with my bare hands." His emerald eyes were sharp and fierce.

"What should we do, Severus?" Tom was just as concerned (if not more concerned) about Nanda. Of course, killing people is not enough to stop evil. He never expected Voldemort to reign on, even if Tom had personally killed him.

"For now, we must keep this information a secret. If Bellatrix doesn't know of it, she will have less of a motive to take him. You both will tell no one, not even Hermione, or Ron. No one is to know. Just us in this room."

"What of Nanda?" Tom asked.

"We already told him of his heritage, which may very well be the reason he was so destructive, but I fear what would happen if he learned of Bellatrix. Do not tell him."

Harry ran a clawed hand through his hair in frustration, and Tom stood. "We won't" he said. "Not until it may be better avoided if he knew." He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and they apparated back to the manor. When they arrived, Harry was in tears. "What's wrong, love? Nanda is in no danger right now. He will be just fine."

Through sobs, Harry managed "But he's just like me. The same fucking villain chasing after him in his first year. I never wanted him to be like me. I…" he lay down on the couch of the sitting room in a ball. "I don't want him to be cursed like me."

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><p><strong>Wooh! That took some time out of my day. I tried all week to write this, but I only had about a paragraph before I had to get off again. I had to spend all day today finishing it. Was it okay? Review and tell me! I love reviews! :)<strong>


	11. What I've decided to do Not a chapter

Hi. I've decided to shorten the crap out of my story. I'm going to write 1 more chapter (the epilogue). In this chapter it will all end. So...I'm going to skip a whole bunch of stuff. Those things that I skip, I will provide information on them right...NOW!

-Scorpisu gets a new wand that works better for him made with a phoenix feather core. Ivy with phoenix feather, 9 ½ in.

-Nanda and Scorpius go through the difficult process of Animagus training because Scorpius wanted a way to be able to hide from his father when he wanted. They both are able to do it without much difficulty, and are the youngest to ever achieve it. Nanda turns into a grey mockingbird that is said to resemble a small hawk. Scorpius turns into a blonde rabbit.

-Tom advices one of his (unnamed) previous Death Eaters (that wasn't crazy) to go undercover for him. This unnamed wizard joins forces with Bellatrix and accidently spills the secret of Nanda's powerful heritage, and she immediately lashes out a attack to catch Nanda. Her group, called the "Blood Birds" (represented by hawks), attacks Hogwarts. The teachers, Seventh years, sixth years, and some fifth years are allowed to fight them. Severus even enters the battle, protecting and helping the students. In the end, the Blood Birds retreat (Bellatrix is forced to leave). Harry freaks out. It makes the newspaper, and everyone in the wizarding world expects Tom to fix it.

I got the biggest problems of the book. If there are any small details I missed, please let me know and I will post it on here so everyone will know.

Here, I would like to add another apology. My first story was so much better, and I put so much more time and effort and feeling into it. Right after that one ended, I felt the dire need to keep writing, and many people voted for a sequel when I asked. I think (maybe) the first three chapters actually had that same feeling and effort as the first story, but the next chapters just began to drag on, and I put off writing more and more. Honestly, I've been feeling super stressed, and getting so much less sleep than normal. I feel terrible for giving up on this story.

Anyway...until next time. :)

-Garralovesmeonly


	12. The Final Difference

**Chapter 11: The Final Difference**

**After this, it's over. I, for one, and very happy about this. I hope you enjoy it!**

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><p>"I just want you close<br>Where you can stay forever  
>You can be sure<br>That it will only get better  
>You and me together<br>Through the days and nights  
>I don't worry 'cause<br>Everything's going to be alright  
>People keep talking they can say what they like<br>But all I know is everything's going to be alright  
>...When the rain is pouring down<br>And my heart is hurting  
>You will always be around<br>This I know for certain  
>...Everything's going to be alright<br>...I know some people search the world  
>To find something like what we have<br>I know people will try, try to divide, something so real  
>So till the end of time I'm telling you there ain't no one<br>No one, no one  
>Can get in the way of what I'm feeling"<p>

-_No One_ by Alicia Keys

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><p>Nanda's POV:<p>

Nothing had really changed. Everyone around me seemed the same. But I felt completely different. Thoughts haunted me, and there was a certain greyness to the sky. Of course, Bellatrix had never gotten a hold of me, but she was still out there, and I understood that she wouldn't rest until she had some sort of revenge to thrive off of. My papa held me, tears in his eyes, telling me I would have the same luck, and friends, and love that he had. I would make it through, he told me, and that filthy woman would never get her hands on me. No matter how much he told me these things, I always thought to myself _This is almost nothing like what he went through._ Voldemort must have been scary, but he had a secret side to him that eventually became my dad, and renounced old ways to enjoy life with my papa. Bellatrix was evil to the bone, without any secret side to her that would ever be revealed. Her complete insanity kept her from being reasoned with, and she had the most vicious pack of equally blood-thirsty people backing her up. It was black and white.

I still cry at night, but not for the same reasons. I cared little for the mistakes of past parents, no matter how large and awful. Now all I saw were the horrid black eyes that once stood before me, demanding my surrender and help kill my own dads, and pale hands holding a knife covered in the blood of half-bloods I didn't know, but who had counted on me, spilt on the hope of a peaceful world once more, and a soul darker than space entering my mind and speaking in lovely rhymes, like a lullaby, telling me to give up all hope and give in to what cannot be overcome. The voice continued to echo in my head, no matter what I tried to drown it out with.

_Ah, little boy with eyes of sweet sight  
>Do not be fearful of Blood and its spill<br>Who you should fear is disguised in light  
>He who once had such lust to kill<br>And He who once had such a foe  
>Child, be there nothing but your health<br>I ask only for aid in mind to flow  
>And in return I shall provide you wealth<br>Give in to the master of all  
>Let the Dark be your other twin<br>Let not your heart suffer such fall  
>Together, my dear child, we will win<em>

A tear fell down my cheek, and I came back to reality. Her eyes, those evil black holes that sucked in everything, bore into my soul. My papa was talking to me, but I couldn't hear him; I was too far gone in the past. I knew he would blame himself, but what was there to be done? Bellatrix had escaped, and at any moment could slit my throat without my realization.

But I was alive. And so were they. Everyone I love made it through, and I lost nothing except what I never had. Nothing was different now than it was before all this started, but it was another dimension to me, and it always will be. There is no normal after trying to be killed; only another day of life, and another reason for worry.

_Give in to the master of all  
>Let the Dark be your other twin<em>

I felt so cold. Was it cold in the room? I couldn't tell. Where was I? It wasn't where I was just standing, wrapped in the loving arms of my dads. It was dark, with bare trees surrounding us, so familiar, yet so foreign.

_Together, my dear child, we will win_

The voice rang through the silent air, smooth and velvet, but so terribly awful. I fell to my knees at the mercy of the song. I wanted my home back. I wanted my dads, and my grandpa, and my friends, my hills, and instruments.

A fearful whistle ran through the trees. I grabbed my arms across me and lowered my head as a twig cracked some ways away. A tear fell to the ground, and a raindrop hit the back of neck.

_Together, my dear child…_

I jerked up and spread my arms. I wasn't going to let the voice finish. The wind whipped around me in a spiraling tornado, absorbing the rest of its lyrics into its mouth. _Leave me alone! I won't let you get my dads!_ Leaves and dirt merged into the storm, joined by broken pieces of the bare trees that once surrounded me. From behind me, a ghost of fear crept past my wind shields and whispered into my ear.

_We will win._

"NANDA!"

I returned to the present, and my wind storm followed me, destroying the house I had lived in since I was five. My dad was screaming my name through the whooshing of the air. I calmed the winds, no longer needing their protection. After they vanished, I saw the damage done to the once magnificent sitting room. The paintings were torn and strewn randomly about the room, the couch was upside down in the corner of the room, and the window had large cracks in it. Tears came into my eyes, as I loved this room, more than my own.

My papa emerged from behind the couch cautiously, next to where my dad was standing. His glasses were skewed, and his hair messy (more than normal). He looked around the destroyed room, and I feared that he would yell at me, and send me to my room to think about what I had done. A few more tears fell down my cheeks. I only wanted my life to be happy, and I had already done more than enough to ruin it.

Papa looked to Dad, and a smile came onto his face, and he started laughing. My papa stepped out from behind the couch and crouched down next to me. I was beyond confused. "What's so funny?" I asked him.

He finished off his laughs, and finally answered with a smile. "This poor room just can't get a break, can it?" He looked to Dad, and sighed.

"What are you talking about?"

My dad walked over to us and sat so that we were in a sort of triangle. "Once, when your papa was younger, before he even graduated school, he set fire to this very room."

_What? Why would he do such a thing?_ My papa continued on, "Not on purpose, of course. I loved this room as much as you do. But I was taking a nap in here, and for some odd reason, I had an awful dream about a large fire. I don't remember why, but I do know that fireplace over there," he pointed to the fireplace, "has a special charm on it. All you have to do is think of a fire, and one pops up." Right on cue, a fire started in the fireplace. He smiled. "Of course, matched with my dream, I ended up setting the whole room on fire, and even burning myself."

"I had to get the paintings repainted, and used several spells to rid of all the burns on the walls and couch," my dad said. "It depressed him so, but it was an accident, of course. I was more concerned about him." He smirked to Papa.

"This poor room has been through hell, almost literally." Papa chuckled. He ruffled my hair with his hand. "It's alright. We'll fix it. At least you didn't hurt yourself. I don't think I could live with taking you to St. Mungo's again…"

My dad huffed. "Oh, that nurse there was just awful. We told her you had probably broken a bone, but she said we had to wait patiently like 'everybody else'. I do not understand as to why, since it was the emergency sector. It was such horrible service. They must be hiring anyone these days…"

My papa let go a small chuckle, but the bright green eyes that met mine were somber. After a moment of silence he asked, "What happened?"

Despite the fire's heat, I shivered. "I had a day-mare."

He sighed. "I used to have those, too."

I shook my head. "You don't get it."

His eyebrows knit, and his head turned just a bit in his confusion. My dad's eyebrows just raised, and waited my explanation.

"I may have an enemy, as you did, but they are almost nothing alike. My enemy doesn't want me to die, she wants me to kill the ones I love, and then use me to spread fear as she pleases like some sort of sick pet. The friends and family who stand in the way are the ones she wants to kill, not shields to the real prize. I have this god-awful power that I never asked for, that I can't always control, and that hurts more than helps. I want to create, and learn, but that's not what I was made for. I'm not a brave Gryffindor who's prepared for any battle thrown in my way. I didn't even bother to participate in defending Hogwarts when she attacked. I let her have access to the ones she really wants. I let her get into my mind and now she won't get out. She's crazy enough to do what it takes to get you both. There is nothing else to her other than evil."

My dads were silent. There was nothing else to say, as that was the pure truth. I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them tightly. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry, but I wouldn't let myself. The silence was so intense I heard a ringing in my ears. Nothing made a sound; I couldn't even hear myself breathe. But I suppose nothing is better than the Voice.

My papa hugged me. I felt his warmth, and it warmed the chill of the past. 'I know,' he whispered. 'She's your opposite. That's what makes her so scary. That's what makes them all scary.'

"Was Voldemort your opposite?"

My papa let me go. "In some ways. He was rational, and cold-hearted, with minions instead of friends. But what made him so awful to me was that he was so similar."

My dad spoke up. "If I may correct you, Harry, you and Voldemort had _nothing_ in common. Voldemort was far from a man, and therefore cannot be compared to one. It was you and I who had so much in common. It was the fact that I had turned to be him, that you feared you would be the same."

Papa nodded. "But, Nanda, you are not like her in the least. You have a smart mind, and a family, and friends. We love you, so much. And I would never let her get you, no matter if she truly wanted me or not." He smiled. "And I think you're underestimating your dads just a bit. If you were unaware, we are _the_ most powerful wizards in the whole Wizarding world. It would take more than Bellatrix and her group of crazies to finish us off."

"There is no need to worry, my pup. Bellatrix will be caught and sent to Azkaban. She will never be able to do anything to you there."

I could finally feel the warmth from the fire behind me, sending lovely waves of heat through my back. There was nothing more to say now. I got up and hugged both of my dads, letting the action speak for me.

Of course, I suddenly remembered it was Sunday, and I had a paper due tomorrow for Transfiguration (just because I knew the teacher well doesn't mean she was giving me any less homework, or any other sort of special treatment. If anything else, she expected more from me). I pulled back and straightened. "If you'll excuse me, I just remembered I have a paper due tomorrow."

As I left the room, I could hear my papa laughing behind me. Something like "such a Ravenclaw". Even if my problems weren't finished, I knew there was nothing she could do but scare me, and only I could let her scare me. Needless to say, I wouldn't let her do that anymore. I was ready to try and make it through the remainder of my first year (and by make it, I mean get an E or higher in every possible subject _and_ continue practicing changing into my Animagus. Just because I got it a few times doesn't mean I can do it every time, and I really want to be the youngest person to master one). I grinned to myself and decided to try and become my special singing bird again. I could just imagine my molecules changing, granting me slate grey wings, and a vicious beak that looked as if it shouldn't belong to such a small creature. I shrunk to the floor, my little bird legs hopping a bit to balance. As soon as I was steady, I spread my wings and let them lift me into the air, down the hall, into the large dining room, and out the owl window into the fresh air.

_My paper can wait, _I told myself. _I'm sure it will be easier to write than the last one. _

I soared over green hills, around the manor to the edge of a small forest that was overlooked by a now cracked window. I landed in a tree and (more or less) vomited up some lovely chirps that my music had to offer. They must have been lovely, because other birds nearby joined in, making a lovely bird choir unlike anything imaginable.

I took off once more. Past hills, and rivers, and valleys, and forests. All of them beautiful, but not quite the destination I was looking for. To be honest, the human part of my brain had no idea where I was headed. I just knew the way of the skies. I flew until I saw a large building coming into view. It was so very old-looking, but majestic in so many ways. The closer I got, the more details it revealed, and I suddenly realized how awfully wealthy the owner of the manor would have to be. I flew around it to the courtyard in the back, with lovely gardens filled with charmed flowers, and a table that said "Hello there! I'm so much more important than you are!" I circled around a bit overhead, trying to spot something, but couldn't find it. I perched myself atop a bush and looked about, chirping to myself. "Hello? Where could you be? You _must_ be somewhere." As lovely as the garden was, I did not want to explore it without my partner in crime.

I jumped down to the grass and whistled a little tune with lyrics like "I'm a little bird looking for my friend. I would like him to show up soon, please. We have many good times for leather" (or something like that. I'm still a little sketchy on translating my bird chirps to English). I turned around, hopping to see if my friend was in the bush, when someone stepped outside.

"Oh, what a _marvelous_ looking bird," a formally dressed lady said. "Such a lovely little song it sings. I've never seen it here before." She turned back to the door. "Scorpius isn't out here, Draco."

A voice from inside the door spoke up. "That blasted child. Does he not understand we have an important dinner with someone? We have a reputation as Malfoys to upkeep and he repeatedly…"

The woman sighed and stepped back inside, a little blonde bunny sneaking by her feet before she closed the door. "Friend! Oh, my friend, I've found shoe!" I whistled. The bunny's ears stood straight up, and he began to hop his way over to me. Scorpius the Bunny sniffed at me, which tickled my feathers a bit. "Oh wonderful friend, what smell we do?"

Scorpius the Bunny looked over to a rather large hedge in the corner of the courtyard, his nose twitching as if to say "That way."

I lifted off that direction, Scorpius the Bunny hopping on the ground beneath me. I whistled something like "Off to the hedge we go, only as friends should know, lots of fun, and adventure a ton, off to the hedge we potato" (so that one may be a little more off than most of the other translations, but I can promise that's what it sounded like). Nothing is possibly more fun than exploring a huge hedge with your bunny friend.

The day was so much different from how it started, but that is how life always is; nothing is ever the same as the beginning. Life ahead would be a challenge, but I was ready, mind and body, to take it on, as long as I would have my friends and family. There was nothing to do now, of course, but sing a little tune, and follow the blonde bunny into his secret bunny hole underneath the hedge and continue on with the adventure.

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><p><strong>That was it. :) I hope you liked it. <strong>


End file.
